


Regimentum

by CrashingPetals



Series: Vivicendium Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, James is still an adorable idiot, Lily has grudgingly decided she doesn't mind this, Marauders era, Order of the Phoenix - Freeform, Part 2 of Vivicendium, Post-Hogwarts, Rated M for scenes of a sexual nature, Sirius is still our man, This story will get very dark in later chapters, Vivian still thinks they're both mental, and for that blood and death i mentioned, but she's a bit busy burning dishtowels and killing plants to bother telling them this, but worry not, expect tragedy, potential blood gore death etc etc etc, sirius black/oc - Freeform, some Regulus/OC in future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashingPetals/pseuds/CrashingPetals
Summary: The Order fights a losing battle.  There is a traitor among them who is fixated on killing them off.  One by one they fall, like chessmen being brushed aside.  The lone Slytherin is naturally suspected, even by the ones she thought she could trust.  But even as war looms upon their doorsteps, happiness can still be found in the cottage Vivian now calls home…until, of course, someone from her past returns with information that could change the tide of battle, tragedy strikes, and the world that she has built for herself comes crashing down within a matter of days.  A new purpose rises from the ashes, and with it comes a new Vivian Blair, who must learn to live without the ones she has come to love.Sirius/OCSeason 2 of Vivicendium
Relationships: Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Vivicendium Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768132
Comments: 330
Kudos: 464





	1. Auspicium melioris aevi

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Regimentum, the second installment of Vivicendium. As usual, a few things to note before you begin reading:
> 
> Some creative license will be taken with regard to the canon timeline in this story, as is hinted below. This is to lay down the foundations for the next installment of the series.
> 
> Most of the characters and plots that were left unfinished in Season 1 will be carried over to Season 2, including OC characters. It is recommended to read Vivicendium first in order to gain context.
> 
> This first chapter is a flash-forward scene that will connect to the center of this story. Then, as in Vivicendium, the story will move backwards in time. Regimentum will focus heavily on the First Wizarding War, the Order of the Phoenix, and Regulus’s plot, which will have more significance in the second half of this story. 
> 
> This story is rated M due to potentially graphic scenes of death, torture, and the overall consequences of war, as well as scenes of a sexual nature. Chapter warnings will be included.
> 
> Disclaimer even though the word ‘fanfiction’ is a disclaimer in itself: I do not own Harry Potter.
> 
> I will be updating this story every Sunday.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and I look forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts :) 

**Chapter One | Auspicium melioris aevi**

**[An omen of a better time]**

There is something irresistibly sweet in the darkness. Something that calls to her in the night. It is like wind rattling the windows on a stormy evening, impossible to ignore. She feels it wrap around her every thought, tainting as it goes, destroying with its icy fingers. It is a blank expanse that stretches beyond her vision, so far that it seems to cover everything in sight; every sentiment, every belief, everything that Vivian Blair is and was and will be, to the point where it is almost impossible to recall the parts of herself that ought to be there. The pieces of her soul that ought to be breathed in flame and happiness.

“You need to close your mind,” he tells her, but it is not such an easy thing to do, when memory blossoms behind her eyes and turns them glassy with anguish, and the ice comes to rattle upon thought and consequence and leaves her gasping in the wake of it.

“I’m trying,” she hoarsely responds. Her fingers dig into the upholstered armchair, nails scratching against the polished wood. She sees him there in her mind’s eye, so vivid that it’s unnerving. He is smiling at her from the corner of a photograph, dressed for once with certain care as he lifts a goblet and toasts to the happiness of their friends. He is there again, hair splayed over pillows, reaching for her with a laugh and pulling her into the warmth. And there again, concern etched within his eyes as he takes her hand and pulls her back, away from ricocheting spells and blasts of green light – and again, and again, and again, her name upon his lips, calling out with love and anger, accusing eyes and arresting smiles; a tormenting conundrum that had not been rectified, _could_ not be rectified, until…

“Enough, that’s enough,” she gasps, slamming her head so hard against the back of the chair that stars swim momentarily through her vision. She wrenches her eyes open and sees a face studying her with a careful expression, just emotionless enough to showcase the barest hint of Regulus Black’s own anguish.

“Your mind is still too weak,” he tells her. His voice is bathed not with judgement, but with cautious concern. The iron of his eyes is softened in the dim light of the study. He shifts them away from hers as though it is difficult to look at her directly. “…I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself,” he murmurs, and strides to the fireplace to lean against the mantle. He stares into the flames that dance within the hearth.

Vivian doesn’t respond. She merely sits there and clenches down upon the arms of the chair, knuckles blanched a stark, bone-white. The veins of her neck protrude from the effort it takes to compose her emotions, but the ice has melted somewhat and a burning fire has alighted in the back of her throat. She tries to swallow it down, but her mouth is too dry and it feels as though there is ash upon her tongue; memories taken out of place and stripped down, like a photograph sitting upon a sunny windowsill for so long that the faces within it fade into the background. 

“Perhaps we should pick this up tomorrow night,” she finally croaks into the thickening silence.

How much farther will he press her? This is an agonizing torment.

Regulus turns to look at her. His expression, which is always so calm, now pulls itself into a frown.

“You’ve hardly made any progress at all,” he says, “and we’ve been at it for weeks.”

Vivian bites down upon her inner cheek and scratchily responds, “What does it matter? Who cares if anyone sees my memories?”

His frown deepens. In an instant, Regulus has turned to face her and is crossing the room to return to her side. He kneels down in front of her chair and reaches for her hands, pulling them into his cold grasp. “You know why this is important, Vivian. We both know that He’ll be back one day, and when He returns…”

Slytherins. They are ready for everything. Despite being one herself, Vivian has nearly forgotten the way their minds work. She has spent so much time around Gryffindors that it is almost chilling to be in Regulus’s presence once again.

With a tight swallow, Vivian draws in a shaky breath and squeezes his hands. “Okay. Once more.”

Regulus stares at her closely for several long moments before nodding. “Once more,” he agrees, and stands up to lift his wand.

Vivian straightens in the chair, returns her hands to the armrest, and closes her eyes. She takes several deep breaths, trying to empty her mind, to compose her thoughts, to press them into order. Regulus waits for her to nod, but even though she thinks she’s ready, she isn’t.

 _“Legilimens,”_ he murmurs, and at once they both tumble right back into memory better left alone.

There he is again, standing before her and pushing her hair back. She can almost feel his fingers running over her scalp, gentle and calming even as he chuckles at her.

 _“What are you trying to do, kill every plant in England?”_ he snorts. _“Just accept the fact that you’re awful at gardening, Godric. Honestly, how you passed herbology, I’ll never know.”_

 _“Shove off, you mutt,”_ her voice responds, light and amused even as she pushes him.

 _“Mutt?! How dare you,”_ comes his laughing response, and then he is dragging her into him and she’s laughingly pushing him back as a warm summer breeze pushes through the valley that spans out around them…

Her heart is shaking. The vision of the garden vanishes.

 _“Vivian,”_ he murmurs into the night, _“look at me.”_

He reaches for her, eyes swept over with worry and sadness _. “Look at me,”_ he whispers, trying to turn her towards him. His fingertips brush against wet cheeks.

 _“There was nothing you could do,”_ he tells her, and pulls her into his arms as the oppressing darkness weighs upon them, and the thin light of the moon and stars struggle to broach the curtains…

Her heart shakes again.

“Harden your mind,” Regulus’s voice tells her, “imagine that there is a sheet of ice covering your thoughts.”

But she can’t, she can’t, she can’t.

A dimly lit pub unfurls before her mind’s eye. She sees herself laughing as if she has not a care in the world, shucked against Sirius as he playfully nudges Peter. 

_“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Pete,”_ Sirius says.

 _“Yeah, where’ve you been?”_ James asks, his fingers entwined with Lily’s on the table’s surface. _“Have you been holed up with some bird?”_

Peter coughs into his butterbeer and frowns, _“Why, would it amuse you if I was? Only my mum would love me, is that right?”_

Vivian sees James blink in surprise. Peter’s hostile tone makes the rest of the table quiet down. She sees herself peering carefully at him from around Sirius’s figure, but she could never have known…

 _“That’s – look, I never actually meant – ”_ but James’s spluttering only makes Peter stand up and grab his coat.

 _“I’ll see you all at the next meeting,”_ Peter mumbles, and scurries for the door before James can call him back. The rest of them turn to stare at each other awkwardly, none of them knowing what to say. But then…

 _“The war’s getting to him,”_ Remus placates, _“he’s just stressed out. We all are.”_

Lily squeezes James’s hand. Their matching wedding bands gleam in the dim light of the fading sunlight. Her voice is tentative when she suggests, _“Maybe we should all get together for dinner soon? It’s been a while…Peter probably feels a bit disconnected from us…”_

James shrugs and looks over at Sirius, who shrugs back at him. _“You can all come over to the cottage,”_ he proposes, casting a glance at Vivian. The edge of his mouth tilts up. _“But you may want to bring your own food.”_

Vivian huffs at him as James laughs, _“Still eating take-out every night? Set another dishcloth on fire lately, Pride?”_

Vivian glowers at him. _“Shut it, Potter. It happened one time.”_

They all laugh, and her heart shakes again…

“Vivian,” Regulus sighs, “you need to try harder.”

But Vivian can only snap, “I _am_ trying, Reg,” as another scene unfurls before her. 

Sirius has her pressed to the mattress. Sirius is kissing his way over her neck. Sirius is fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, whispering her name with a sigh, covering her mouth with his, pressing his body against hers…

“I don’t want you to see that,” Vivian angrily heaves, trying to push him out of her mind. This time, Regulus makes it easy for her, because he doesn’t particularly want to see it either. He lifts his wand and runs a hand through his hair, but his moment of weakness is only a moment; a mask, carefully void of emotion, quickly replaces it.

“If I wanted to, I could look into your thoughts about the Order, find out Dumbledore’s weaknesses, gather information to destroy it once and for all…” Regulus catches her eye solemnly. “If I wanted to, I could see everything, because you aren’t even trying to keep me out.”

Vivian clenches her jaw and, through gritted teeth, says, “I told you, _I am trying.”_

Regulus lifts his wand again, and she braces herself. He says, “Try again,” and she does. But it is hard, when Sirius’s face unravels before her, smiling in the way that would always make her heart so warm. It is hard, when a part of her wants to cling to his memory, which has since been tainted with mugshots and insane laughter, haunting her every step. 

_“He’s so small,”_ Sirius breathes. His eyes are full of wonder. The bundle in his arms coos quietly and reaches up to slap a tiny hand over his jaw. Vivian leans over Sirius’s shoulder and takes the hand, marveling at the little fingers. In the bed some paces away, Lily watches with a tired smile.

 _“What did you decide to name him?”_ Sirius asks, his voice still captured with wonder.

James proudly responds, _“Harry.”_

Harry, Harry…where is he now? She should have taken him in…but perhaps James and Lily wouldn’t have wanted her to…perhaps they really didn’t trust her after all…

 _“Who else have you been seeing behind my back?”_ Sirius angrily demands. _“Who else?”_

_“You don’t understand, Sirius, I – ”_

_“I can’t believe you’ve hidden this from me,”_ he snarls. 

_“You know why I did,”_ she says. _“I knew you would react like this.”_

_“Doesn’t trust mean anything to you? Don’t you see how this looks to the other members? He’s one of them, Vivian. You’re cavorting with the enemy!”_

_“Sirius, please listen to me, let me explain – ”_

“Enough,” Vivian gasps, forcing her eyes open again, “Stop, stop, Regulus, stop.”

This is too painful. This is too much for one soul to take. 

“Stop,” she whispers, even though Regulus has already lowered his wand. But the memories still unspool from her mind’s eye, unraveling as if they are a film and she is an unwilling audience. She sees Sirius throw her hand from his arm and turn towards his motorbike.

 _“I need some air,”_ he had said; the last sentence he’s ever said.

Vivian thinks she needs some air right about now, too. She throws herself from the upholstered chair and, chest heaving, croaks, “I’ll be outside. In the garden. I need a moment.” Before she’s even done speaking, she’s rushing towards the study door and throwing it open, without care of the late hour or the people sleeping on the next floor. Sirius’s last words pluck at every thought, invade every corner of her mind, color every emotion that lurches haphazardly through her. She feels as though she can’t breathe.

When at last she tears the back door open, she gasps into the night sky. She feels shaky, without substance. She closes her eyes against the cold air and sinks down to bury her fingers into the dirt, as if she thinks that by clinging to the earth, perhaps she might resettle her mind, and lock her memories into iron cages.

But they keep unspooling, they keep unraveling. She is on a collision course and there is no path but the one directly ahead, which leads into the darkness and reaches out with icy fingers to capture her. The chill is almost pleasant, but she is still resisting its call, trying to grasp onto the pieces of herself that still survive. 

But the memories continue with their torment, always:

 _I need some air,_ he had said, and then he vanished in the night.


	2. Ordinandi lex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the incredible reviews on the first chapter! II'm not very pleased with this chapter but wanted to post something for you all. That said, I will be skipping next week's update for Regimentum. After struggling through this chapter, I want to give myself a bit of extra time to get into the dynamics/flow of this story, since it has a very different energy from S1. But worry not! The next chapter will be posted the Sunday after next (June 14 to be precise) and I will be continuing my weekly updates as usual.

**Chapter Two | Ordinandi lex**

**[Law of procedure]**

On the outskirts of a muggle village by the name of Tinworth, in the rolling hills of the West Country, some miles from the coast, there exists a small cottage. The muggles living in the area can attest that this cottage has stood for as long as their eldest among them can recall, who, as he often repeats when the subject presents itself, had been constructed for the local shepherd. As such, the cottage is quite unremarkable in every sense of the word, containing four small rooms on the ground floor and a cramped attic used primarily to store such things of necessity. The only redeeming feature to be had is the presence of what once was a prosperous garden behind the house, which had in its day boasted an impressive array of plants, herbs, and vegetables alike; and the three apple trees lining the dirt path leading to the front door. Anyone happening upon this cottage would perhaps be filled with a morbid sense of appreciation for the way nature has overgrown it. Its presence on the outskirts of Tinworth has been ingrained into its residents' minds, and they have no quarrel with the it despite it having been empty for many years. Besides, this cottage is so removed from the rest of the village, and so far upon its outskirts, that the residents of Tinworth very rarely remember that it exists at all.

It has, like all houses who have reached an old age, seen a great many things in its time. Its shepherd had passed it to his son, who passed it to his son, and so on for some generations, until the cottage was passed to a lone daughter. This daughter, having remained unmarried in a time when spinsterhood was looked upon as an affliction to the female spirit, lived a quiet and isolated life until her own passing. Unmarried and childless, the cottage and property were brought into possession by the local magistrate of the town, who for the most part ignored its existence entirely. This perspective was taken on by the subsequent magistrate, and so on and so forth for several more generations, until at last the cottage came to be a local haunt of the village boys and left at that. Until one day, the cottage disappeared.

The disappearance of an entire house, however large or small it happens to be, ought to be cause of some concern for the local community, but the muggles living in the village of Tinworth hardly batted an eye. Even the village boys barely remembered its existence, for when they did follow the familiar path towards the abandoned home, they would often recall matters of great importance that could not be left for later, and would determine to return on the morrow once their chores and duties were completed; but on the morrow, more chores would be remembered, and so it would repeat.

The magistrate himself could hardly bother with rumors of the cottage's disappearance, for some weeks prior, the property had indeed been purchased by a Mr. Padfoot, and all documents completed and handed in with indisputable acumen. If this Padfoot fellow had decided to tear down the cottage, then it was within his right, and the magistrate did not care one way or the other. He was, to be perfectly frank, rather pleased to have finally made some money from the property, and was happy to be rid of it.

Of course, the cottage had not been torn down, nor had actually disappeared, but if any of the muggles happened to see it as it is now, they would surely think it was a different cottage entirely. It isn't, of course. In fact, it is in just as much disrepair as ever, and very much different from what Vivian Blair is accustomed to, for that matter.

"What do you think? It's perfect, right?"

Vivian's lip curls. She casts a glance at Sirius, who is charming several boxes to drift into the living room. Her expression is a mixture between incredulity and amusement as she watches Sirius grin at her.

"We're surrounded by muggles," she points out, deciding against reminding him of the frankly abhorrent state of the cottage. It's nothing a little magic can't fix, she supposes, and chooses to remain silent on that particular matter. After all, she had wanted this, and even though the run-down house is hardly the stately mansion she had grown up in, the man who is now crossing the room to where she stands rather makes up for it.

Sirius takes her shoulders and returns, "Which is the _last_ place your father would look for you."

Vivian pauses at this, and after a grudging moment of further silence, she concedes with a slight smile. The second he sees it, Sirius's face breaks out into a deeper grin and he shuffles closer to her with a laugh.

"Look, it'll take a bit of patching up, but it's _ours,"_ he says. The gleeful passion behind his voice is enough to have her smiling wider in response. He laughs again and threads his fingers through hers, dragging her across the room eagerly. He walks through the kitchen to throw open the back door, revealing the overgrown garden and the rolling hills beyond it. It is a misty day, and the late afternoon sun that shines just so through the fog gives the impression that the world is aglow.

"When you said 'country house', I just didn't realize you meant _country_ house," Vivian drawls at him as he pulls her outside. She casts him a sideways look and her mouth twitches up a bit more.

Sirius scoffs at her and puts an arm around her shoulders, nodding to the grassy expanse around them. "Oh come on, you can't tell me you don't like this…even if we _are_ surrounded by muggles."

She hums lightly and, after a moment's hesitation, curls her arm around his waist. When she sees him smile smugly from the corner of her eye, she makes sure her voice is heavily sarcastic as she muses, "It has a _few_ charms, I suppose."

She makes no mention of the main one, which happens to be standing by her side even now, but she doesn't really have to. Sirius turns his head to catch her eye, clearly trying to keep his smile at bay, and Vivian nudges him in the side and tries to pull away from him before he can call her out. Just as he's reaching out to catch her, though, a dry voice sounds from behind them, and rather ruins the moment. Then again, James Potter does have a habit of doing that.

"I thought you two were supposed to be unpacking, not romping around outside," James drawls with a highly inconvenienced sigh. To someone else, he adds, "Honestly, they can't do _anything_ without me."

That someone else, who happens to be Remus, shakes his head at him and replies, "I think it's the other way around, actually," which earns him a shove in retribution. Behind Remus, Peter shifts uncomfortably, his hands wringing together in front of him and looking quite out of place.

Vivian groans, "Oh wonderful, _you're_ all here now."

James's response to this is a prompt, "Yeah, and lucky we are, otherwise you'd never get anything accomplished." The gleam in his eye makes it clear why he thinks so. He shoots an amused grin at Sirius, whose smug expression makes it even more clear that he had received the message and is in agreement with it. Vivian snorts at them and pushes past James, shoving into his shoulder just because she can. She feels a righteous sense of pleasure when he stumbles.

"So…muggles on all sides," James says once he's regained his balance, and shoots a smirk at Vivian. "How do you feel about that, Pride? Scared? Uncomfortable?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Vivian grouses, and then shoves an unopened box into his arms and snaps, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help us unpack."

James sighs at her, but doesn't argue. The reason for this is because that is the exact reason the rest of the Marauders are even here to begin with.

"Fine, fine," James mutters, dropping the box onto the small kitchen table. "You really know how to pick 'em, Padfoot," he mumbles to his friend, though it is loud enough for them all the hear.

Vivian sends him an unimpressed glower, while Sirius grins. But then he glances over at her, and the quiet look in his eye has her glower softening so subtly that only he seems to notice.

"Yeah, I do," Sirius murmurs to her, for her ears only, and smirks at the way her cheeks flush just so as he edges past her. His hand drifts to her hip as he does. The unnecessary touch makes her flush all the more, but if the other Marauders notice, they don't make mention of it and merely begin to open boxes.

It would be a lie to claim that there are a lot of things to put away. Vivian has only what she'd brought from Hogwarts. She hadn't stepped foot back inside the Blair manor upon graduating a month and a half ago, figuring that it would be a death sentence if she did. Well, perhaps that is a bit dramatic, but she's positive that her father is furious with her and wouldn't risk facing him right now. As it is, she has only a few pairs of clothes besides her school uniforms, which are rather useless now that they are finished with Hogwarts. Several cloaks, a few grooming supplies, useless school equipment that she doubts she'll be using any time soon, and books make up the majority of her things, which are brought to the bedroom and left there for now. She'll go through her trunk in her own time, once the Marauders have taken their leave.

As for Sirius, he is in much the same position as her, considering that he, too, hasn't returned to his familial home in some years. Because he has been making his own way for longer than she has, though, he has a wider collection of personal items that he also tosses into the bedroom to look through later. When they haul their trunks within the small room, an unmarked tension presides over them for several moments before Vivian clears her throat and takes a quick leave of it. Sirius looks a bit amused at her inability to look towards the bed, but he thankfully holds his tongue for now. She's quite sure he's only doing so because the Marauders are still here, though.

"There're lots of muggle charity shops around London," Remus suggests as they unload the meager kitchen supplies that Mrs. Potter had given them. "You might be able to find some dishware there."

Mrs. Potter, bless her, had taken Vivian in the moment she heard Sirius's plans to find them a place before the end of summer, and upon their leave, had given them as many spare supplies that she could think of. Most of them are kitchen-related. Vivian hadn't had the heart to tell her that she has no idea how to cook. The fact that she had taken Vivian in at all, even if only for a short time, had been too gracious to sully. She still remembers Christmas as if it was yesterday, and the gentle care for which Mrs. Potter had bestowed upon her, stranger though she was.

James snorts at Remus's suggestion and laughs, "Moony, do you really think Pride would be caught dead in a charity shop?"

Vivian turns her attention to him and sends him another glower. "Shut it, Potter," she says, just because.

James snickers. "I'll bet you don't even know what a charity shop is, do you."

Vivian pauses and shoots a glance at Sirius, but he doesn't look like he's preparing to jump to her aid. He raises an eyebrow at her and waits to hear her answer, wearing a smirk that looks eerily similar to James's. After a long beat of silence, Vivian sweeps past them and sets another box onto the table in front of James, deciding not to answer. It doesn't really do her any good; her silence is answer enough, and James laughs loudly. She shoves him in retribution, just because.

It takes a few hours to unpack everything, but this is mainly due to the fact that the Marauders have a shite work ethic. Every few minutes, they pause to crack a joke or tease Vivian about the fact that she's living in _muggle country_. Vivian doesn't bother trying to get them to pay attention. After the first few failed attempts, she merely rolls her eyes at them and ignores them entirely. It's not that hard, really, because James is the one with the worst work ethic of them all, and she's already very accustomed to ignoring him anyhow. As for the rest, Remus calmly makes his way through most of the boxes singlehandedly; Sirius instigates James as often as possible; and Peter works quietly, shooting her glances every now and again as if he's afraid that, should he put something in the wrong place, she'll hex him. While they're unpacking, she turns her attention to a bit of cleaning, albeit grudgingly. Considering the fact that Vivian Blair has never needed to clean anything in her life, she isn't entirely sure what she's actually doing, and is quick to decide that housework is most certainly not her cup of tea.

By the time the sun is beginning to sink beyond the horizon, most of the boxes are unpacked save their trunks containing their personal belongings, the barren floors of the sitting room are relatively clean, and James is pulling out a paper bag that Mrs. Potter had filled with containers of food.

"You know," he says as he digs through the bag to see what his mum had made, "you should be grateful my mum likes you enough to cook you meals, Pride." He glances up at her with a slight smile.

Vivian drifts to the table, slipping her wand into her pocket with a sigh. "Yes, I know, you've told me this about a hundred times already."

To make a long story short: it has been utter hell living with James Potter these past few weeks. He's so annoyingly loud. The rest of his family is fine, but Vivian thinks his mum might've dropped him one too many times when he was a snotty little kid. Having Vivian in his house had taken him a long time to accustom himself to, and he hadn't been quiet about it. The teasing remarks about her and Sirius had very nearly made her hex him on more than one occasion, which had naturally only served to amuse him all the more.

James keeps up a near-constant stream of conversation as they sit down to eat his mum's cooking, divvying it up onto the plates she had sent with them. Remus even procures a bottle of Ogden's, which he claims is a housewarming gift. Of course, it doesn't stop the Marauders from commandeering it. Well, all except one. Sirius doesn't indulge overmuch, and keeps shooting looks at Vivian whenever James asks if he wants a refill. She pretends that she doesn't see, because every time he does, her heart gives an annoying thrill in her chest that makes it rather difficult to breathe. She thinks she knows why he keeps looking at her like that, but doesn't dare call him out on it with the others nearby.

Thankfully, with most of the unpacking concluded, she doesn't have to wait very long for them to leave. After they finish with dinner, Remus, who had also refrained from drinking as much as James and Peter, tells them that he'll see them at the Order meeting at the end of the week and drags his two friends away before they can cause more of a ruckus. Sirius laughs and watches them go, listening to James indignantly inform Remus that, "I didn't even drink that much – ow, why're you ruining my fun – "

Remus murmurs something to him beneath his breath as Vivian stands up to magic the dishes into the sink, just as James responds to whatever it was that Remus had said.

"Ooooh, you think Padfoot and Pride are going to get down and dirty – " he loudly begins, and then Remus shuts the door behind them before he can finish his sentence. The damage has already been done though. Sort of.

As a silence descends upon Padfoot and Pride, the former smirks at the latter and drawls, "You know, I didn't realize your face could get that red, Godric."

Vivian scowls at him, but evidently doesn't have anything to say because she remains staunchly silent. She stews in her embarrassment for a few moments before Sirius chuckles and gets up from the table. He approaches her slowly, as if he thinks she might bolt. When she doesn't, he takes her waist and pulls her into him, leaning down to brush his mouth against hers.

It's a quiet sort of kiss, but it's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for. Before long, Vivian is reaching up to tangle her fingers into his hair and urge him closer, and Sirius is breathing out and deepening their kiss as he presses her against the counter. A slow heat unfurls between them, calm and steady but possessing within it a potential for getting quite lost in the other, if they aren't careful. Of course, it ought to be noted that Sirius Black is rarely ever careful, and much prefers to throw caution to the wind whenever possible. Vivian Blair, however…

She breaks the kiss with a short inhalation that could have been a gasp, if she doesn't tamper it down. Sirius tries to edge closer, ducking his head to kiss her again, but she turns her face with a smile and his mouth instead captures her cheek. Plans foiled, he sighs against said cheek and mutters, "…Right. We're going slow."

He sounds rather despondent about this, which only makes her smile curl into an amused smirk. "We've still got boxes to go through," she reminds him with a lifted brow. Her expression is just shy of challenging when she adds, "Well, don't just stand there," and pushes him towards the remaining few boxes that are waiting nearby on the floor of the sitting room.

Sirius grunts and pulls away, running a hand through his hair. He eyes her for a long moment before muttering, "This is starting to feel like a detention."

Vivian laughs at this and, after another moment, he joins in.

The remainder of the boxes contain items that Sirius had purchased over the years. Together, they go through a rather impressive collection of records. Vivian, with her limited understanding of the confusing ways of muggle, gets a rather thorough explanation of how vinyl records work, how Sirius had discovered them, and the merits of each one he possesses. He details every single record in his collection with an exuberance that makes her smile quietly at him. His passionate explanation is rather endearing, so she doesn't interrupt.

"So Remus's suggestion was actually a pretty good one," he says as they open the last box.

Within it are smaller knickknacks that they will have to find places for, probably once they get some actual furniture. As it is, they've only got the small kitchen table right now, no couches or chairs for the sitting room, no other articles for which to sit, and only a bed and an extra mattress from the Potters, which they'll be returning once they find one of their own. Vivian has never lived like this before and, considering her lack of worldly knowledge, is glad that she has Sirius to show her the ropes. So far, she isn't sure what she thinks about being independent, but perhaps once they turn this place into more of a home, it will feel different.

She glances up at Sirius and wonders, "What _is_ a charity shop, anyway?"

A few months ago, she would have cringed at the thought of him knowing something that she doesn't. Then again, a few months ago, Vivian was adamantly pretending that she wasn't in love with him and that she had absolutely no desire to change her circumstances. A lot can change, really, in such a short time.

Sirius smirks at her question, looking like he's enjoying her wayward admission of not knowing. She resists the urge to shove him and merely waits for his response.

"It's a second-hand store. They mostly have used clothes, but I'm sure we could find some furniture too," he shrugs.

Vivian looks faintly horrified.

"Second-hand furniture?" she repeats. _"Used_ clothes?"

Sirius raises an eyebrow at her, studies the look on her face, and snorts out a laugh. "You are _such_ a pureblood."

This time, she does shove him, but Sirius manages to curl his arm around her waist and drag her along with him onto the floor, where he laughs as she tries to wrangle free.

"Why would anyone wear used clothes?" she demands as she attempts to pry his hand off her waist.

Sirius only looks more amused at the indignancy in which she poses this question, and snickers, "Well we aren't going to spend all our money on brand new things, Vivi. Once my Uncle Alphard's inheritance runs out, that's it."

Now, there are two things that summons a quiet blush to Vivian's face as she finally manages to remove his hand. The first is the way he had said 'our money', as if he truly thinks of it as theirs and not just his. The second is, of course, the way he had said 'Vivi'. She likes to claim that this nickname makes her cringe, but the truth of the matter is that her heart tends to skip a beat whenever he uses it. Judging from the way he turns his head to catch her eye, studying the rising blush on her cheeks with a perceptive expression, he is definitely aware of this.

A slow smirk edges over his mouth. His hand curls back around her waist and pulls her closer. The hard floor beneath them is rather uncomfortable, but Vivian doesn't _entirely_ mind. Her arguments die down as she is tugged against him, and she doesn't currently have the tenacity to revive them. Instead, she raises a hand to push his hair away from his forehead and leans down to kiss him.

It still feels incredibly strange, kissing him so freely. But these are not the halls of Hogwarts where caution controls their actions. They are very much alone, now, without any hinderances or interruptions. They can do whatever they like.

"We should go to bed. It's been a long day," Sirius murmurs into the kiss, his hand still resting against her waist and holding her there, unwilling to let go. She doesn't respond to him at first, mainly because she's a bit too busy dragging his lower lip into her mouth and brushing her tongue over it, enjoying the slow inhalation he rewards her with, drawing her fingers over the line of buttons that dip down his shirt…

And then, with a quiet inhalation of her own, Vivian pulls away and nods, "Alright then. Goodnight, Sirius."

Sirius looks quite confused.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

She sits up and raises an eyebrow at him. "We've only been together for a few months, and most of that time was spent with the Potters."

He pauses with a confused frown. "…So?"

She rolls her eyes at him. "So. Considering how new our relationship is, I'm not going to rush into anything with you."

Sirius sits up too and sarcastically returns, "You mean like buying a house?"

This time, it's her turn to pause. "That's – that's besides the point," she stubbornly tells him.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'm only saying that moving in together is already a pretty big step."

She lifts her chin. "Yes, which is why I've already told you that we should take everything else slow."

" _Yes,_ and _I've_ already told you that I'm a gentleman where it counts and I won't ask anything of you that you're uncomfortable with."

"Well then, I fail to see why we're even having this conversation."

"We're having this conversation because I don't know why it's such a big deal to sleep in the same room."

"I never said it was, but you're still staying in the guest bedroom tonight."

"But we only have a spare mattress – "

"You could sleep on the floor, if you'd prefer."

"Vivian, you're being cruel," he whines.

She nearly tells him that she doesn't give a shite, but then thinks better of it and sighs, "…I don't mean to be. I'm just not used to…to being alone with you…like this."

Her awkward explanation doesn't surprise him, of course, since he figured it was the reason, but he still frowns at her nonetheless and mumbles, "Well let me get some clothes, at least." His voice is grudgingly reluctant. She looks faintly amused, but only just. Still, he notices and grumbles, "I still think it's cruel of you."

She stands up and takes his hand to haul him up beside her. Then, reaching out to cup his face, she pulls him into a brief kiss and whispers, "You promised we'd take things slow, Sirius."

Against her mouth, he mumbles, "It's a bit harder than I thought it'd be, is all." He gives her a look that reminds her of passionate kisses in the owlery of Hogwarts, with the cold wind bracing against them; and pressed against the library shelves, his hand palming her thigh, his mouth bringing her to places she hadn't known existed.

"I want to," she tells him, feeling a bit bolder as she recalls all of this, "but this is really new for me, Sirius – "

"I know," he gently interrupts. "You don't have to explain, Vivian. I can be patient…I think."

She can't quite help herself from drawling, "Can you?", her eyes twinkling with mirth.

He grins at her and straightens his shoulders. "Yes. Definitely. Now about those clothes…"

When he lingers in the bedroom upon gathering several things from his trunk, Vivian doesn't immediately remark upon it. Even when he swoops in to kiss her goodnight and lingers there, too, she can't quite bring herself to push him away. The truth is, she doesn't really want to, but her pureblood heart is full of caution and when she gives all of herself to him, she doesn't want there to be any such thing holding her back. She wants that moment to be unhindered and weightless; a wave that she doesn't fight against, that she surrenders to entirely, without pause or hesitation. And even though a large part of her would like to pull him closer and tell him that she's changed her mind, instead she shuffles him backwards towards the door even as his lips linger on hers, and Sirius doesn't complain.

They will, after all, have many nights together to explore such things, and so he just sends her a quiet smile, presses his mouth once more to hers, and whispers, "Goodnight, Vivian."

An endearing smile spreads over her face. He'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart splutter in his chest.

"…Goodnight, Sirius," she whispers back, hand on his chest and tempted to drag him back. But she doesn't, not quite yet, and just watches him back away with one last grin before closing the door behind him. And, breathing out, Vivian turns back to look at the barren room that has not yet been made theirs, with only a bed and their school trunks to fill the space, and finds herself leaning her head back against the door with a grin of her own.

Perhaps, later, she will regret not taking every chance to be with Sirius when they had the opportunity, but for now, her heart is too shaky with fresh affection to think on it.


	3. A maximis ad minima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the reviews and feedback everyone! I apologize if this chapter seems choppy, I'm still getting into the flow of this story and inspiration has been a bit slow to come lately. The next few chapters might be a bit shorter than my usual chapter lengths as a result. Please bear with me! I didn't respond to your individual reviews this week because I'm on a bit of a time crunch, but thank you all again for leaving comments. Reading all of your thoughts makes my day :)
> 
> Next update will be on Sunday as usual.

**Chapter Three | A maximis ad minima**

**[From the largest to the smallest]**

The first Order meeting doesn't go entirely as planned. If Sirius had been expecting to be given a dangerous mission right off the bat, he is sorely disappointed. Rather than assignments involving a degeneration into duels and fighting, Dumbledore seems more interested in obtaining information, which is decidedly tedious, at least to the Marauders, who would much prefer more excitement. The nature of the missions aside, there are other aspects of the meeting that seem to give them pause. Such as the fact that Dumbledore has invited them to a muggle pub, the wide range of other members in attendance, and the fact that Dumbledore is, for the first time in the Marauders' memories, not dressed in long, flowing robes. Vivian almost doesn't recognize the man, though that could potentially be attributed to the fact that she's a bit busy sending glowering looks at the nearby muggles, who return her untrusting stares with strange looks of their own. Evidently, they have never seen a large group of witches and wizards before, a notion quite comparable to the fact that Vivian has never seen quite so many muggles before, either.

"Stop staring at them," Sirius murmurs at her as he drags her along with him. His fingers are loosely holding her arm from where he had taken it moments before, and she isn't sure she appreciates it. She also isn't sure she appreciates the shred of amusement in his voice.

" _They're_ staring at _me,"_ she mutters back, feeling oddly self-conscious in a way she can't quite explain. It's not as if she's never been around muggles before, but she's never been around so many at once before. It's evening, nearing six o'clock, and so the pub is rather busy. She knows that the attention is likely due to the fact that so many of her fellow wizards are gathered together, but it still feels distinctly odd. Not quite as odd as Dumbledore wearing muggle clothes, though. Having little knowledge of muggle fashion as a whole, Vivian can at least claim to know that a bright yellow corduroy suit isn't what one would consider normal. She can thank Rosalind and her rubbish magazines for this knowledge, not that it does any good.

"Ah, good, I believe everyone has arrived," Dumbledore murmurs, standing tall and obnoxiously colorful as he glances at the crowd of wizards gathered in the main room of the pub. Vivian eyes his turquoise tie with a doubtful expression.

Their old Headmaster leads the way through a corridor that takes them to a small room off the side of the pub, of which will apparently serve as their base of operations for the time being. The moment they step inside the room, an angry looking wizard with a wooden leg shoulders past them and immediately begins scouring the place, though for what Vivian isn't sure. He only stops when Dumbledore calmly says, "Rest assured, we are quite safe here, Alastor."

Ah. Vivian recognizes him now. Alastor Moody is an Auror, and certainly one of the tougher ones at the Ministry. She vaguely recalls her father speaking about him during a breakfast long past; derisive words coupled with an unimpressed sneer.

"…Can't be too sure, Albus," Alastor mutters, and eyes the room as if he suspects the very walls have ears. Then his eyes land on her, and Vivian isn't sure she likes the way his brows furrow together. "You're the Blair girl, then?" he gruffly asks, studying her with a baleful expression.

Vivian eyes him back and responds, "My name is Vivian." Her eyes narrow too, which seems to annoy him and impress him at the same time, because he snorts beneath his breath even as his eyebrows unfurrow.

"Well…good. We'll make use of you," he mutters, which Vivian also isn't sure she likes, but she decides to remain silent for now because others are now filtering into the room behind them.

The room is quite small, almost too small for their own modest number. A long table takes up most of it, with only a few feet of space between its edge and the wall, which is an ugly tan shade that makes the windowless room seem even more claustrophobic. They are forced to press themselves sideways around the table just to get to their seats, which takes several more minutes than it ought to. Vivian sits down beside Sirius and clenches her fingers together in her lap, feeling rather out of place.

"Thank you all for coming. I am glad to see many familiar faces in our midst," Dumbledore says after the room finally falls silent. He casts a glance at James, Remus, and Peter, who are sitting on Sirius's other side, then shifts his gaze to Lily, who had come at the behest of James himself, for reasons she has yet refused to share with the rest of them (but really, judging from the way her and James keep glancing at each other with stupid looks on their faces, explanations are unnecessary).

Besides the Marauders, Honorary Marauders, and the grisly Auror who had deemed not to sit down and is standing near the door with a narrowed, hooded expression, the other occupants of the table are unknown to Vivian, with the exception of a few. Marlene McKinnon, that annoying Gryffindor girl who Sirius used to occasionally fawn over, is here. Two other Gryffindors whose names Vivian can't recall are sitting near McKinnon. Other than that, though, Vivian can't claim to have met any of the others.

"I'm sure you all know, or have at least heard of, Alastor Moody," Dumbledore says, gesturing to the Auror with a sweep of his hand. "For those newcomers amongst us, he'll be leading the meetings during those moments when I find it difficult to leave my post at Hogwarts. Now, Edgar, let's open the meeting with news from the Ministry, shall we?"

Edgar Bones's sister, Amelia, works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. His sister is not in the Order and whether or not she knows about her brother's ties to it, Vivian isn't sure. It's clear that Edgar gets much of his information from Amelia, however, because he preludes his explanation with 'Amelia told me…', as if he wants Dumbledore to be sure that he isn't the original source of the information.

Dumbledore's desire for information seems to be his main focus. It makes sense, of course. Knowing the enemy's move before it is put into action makes it far easier to conduct a countermove. This is a game of strategy; a tactician's paradise. The only problem is that the Death Eaters don't like to follow the rules.

" – And another murder last week, I'm sure you heard," Edgar is saying. "The Dark Mark was seen above the house."

Dumbledore nods, "Yes…it was in the muggle newspaper as well. Alastor, you're working the case, are you not?"

Moody snorts. In a gruff voice, he responds, "Nothing was found to link the attack to anyone in particular. They're slippery bastards, Albus. I'll get to the bottom of it, though…" He trails off with a dark look blazing through his eyes.

It isn't until another half hour passes that assignments are given. Most of them aren't assignments so much as 'keep doing what you're doing'. Those members who are already working in full-time positions will continue keeping their eyes and ears open, while the actual missions are really more in line with glorified spying operations, the likes of which don't appear to satisfy Sirius at all. He holds his tongue, though. Despite his desire for action, even he knows the importance of preparation and watchfulness.

"You are all new to the Order still," Dumbledore tells them, "and so I think it would be best to send you out on more…delicate missions, to keep watch on several pureblood families who we suspect have ties to Voldemort."

James sits up at this and repeats, "Pureblood families? You mean you want us to follow them?"

Dumbledore pauses, eyes him, and responds, "I want you to keep tabs on them. If following them is necessary, then you have full discretion to do so."

Vivian says nothing, but her mind reels with the implications of this. After all, hers is a face that these pureblood families know very well. However, as she's considering what would happen if she was seen trailing them, Dumbledore makes it clear that she is not to be included in such assignments at all, for this very reason.

"I want you to keep to the sidelines for the time being, Vivian," he tells her. When Sirius opens his mouth to argue this, he holds up a hand and, keeping his eyes on Vivian's, adds, "Your position is precarious. It's possible that your parents are looking for you."

She feels a twinge of bitterness at this, not because she won't be going on these missions with the others, but because of the thought of her father hunting for her. Still, she can understand Dumbledore's reasons, so she just shrugs and drawls, "Fine."

She's sure she'll be given assignments in the future, after all, and she's got plenty of other things on her plate right now anyway, such as trying to make her new place of residence somewhat livable. Sirius doesn't look very happy, though, because he blurts, "The whole point of tailing someone is to _not_ _be seen,_ though!"

Vivian glances over at him with a look that he promptly ignores, because he's too busy staring at Dumbledore with insistent eyes.

"It will only be for a short while," Dumbledore placates, which only makes Sirius bristle all the more.

He falls into a surly silence, but Vivian isn't naïve enough to think that the reason for his silence is only for her sake. It's clear to her that he was hoping for a mission that would place him directly in the path of a Death Eater, but all of his illusions of dueling and heroics are put on hold in favor of the cold reality of their situation, which becomes more and more apparent throughout the rest of the meeting. The reality is this:

While some of the Orders' members had not come to this meeting, it's obvious that their numbers are still very low compared to their Dark wizard counterparts. Much of pureblood society has ties to the Dark Lord and are placed in various positions of power within the Ministry itself. By comparison, the Order is quite small, and made up of members who have not quite managed to reach the same pinnacle of fame and fortune that their pureblood fellows have achieved. They certainly do not have the ear of the Minister, like Abraxas Malfoy, or have the ability to pay off any of the Department Heads in order to implement their bidding upon the rest of the wizarding population, like many others. Their members do not hold half as powerful jobs. And, power aside, there aren't nearly as many of them as there are Death Eater sympathizers…at least, not enough of them to actually make a stand and join their fledging Order.

Alas, this is how corruption rules and intimidates; power is the golden calf, before which all kneel and worship, and even those who don't agree are pressured into supplication by the masses like sheep following the ostensible safety of the flock.

* * *

"Can you believe this?" Sirius grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets and casting a glance at James as he shoulders his way onto the street. "Dumbledore's barmy if he thinks I'm going to sit on my arse and do stake-out missions for the next few months. I mean, where's the fun in that?"

James sighs at him and holds the door open for the others – namely Remus, Peter, Vivian, and a hesitant looking Lily.

"This was our first meeting, Sirius," James points out. "Besides, these sorts of missions are important."

Remus is quick to agree, "Yeah, keeping an eye on pureblood supporters could give us important leads into You-Know-Who's next move."

"They're all insane psychopaths," James nods, then casts a glance at Vivian and grins, "'Cept you, of course, Pride."

Vivian rolls her eyes at him. "I'm so glad I've gained your favor, Potter," she sarcastically drawls at him. Beside her, Lily laughs.

"Speaking of Vivian," Sirius adds, turning around to face them all with an indignant expression, "aren't you a little annoyed that Dumbledore's not letting you join the missions?"

Vivian lifts a brow at him and replies, "It makes sense."

He doesn't seem to agree. "No, it doesn't. You've proven that you're on our side. Dumbledore doesn't trust you and I don't like it."

James grins wider and nudges Remus, loudly whispering, "Isn't our Padfoot so sweet these days, Moony? Look at him, getting all riled up for Pride's sake – "

"Shut up, James," Sirius says offhandedly. "It's true and you know it. Dumbledore's worried because her father is a suspected Death Eater and doesn't even care that she's left that life."

Vivian resists the urge to roll her eyes again and says, "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here." When Sirius splutters at her in further indignation, she mutters, "My father _is_ a Death Eater and he's probably still looking for me. If I show my face then I could endanger everyone. Just drop it, Sirius."

Sirius, though, doesn't want to drop it. This doesn't surprise her, of course, seeing as he is frustratingly (and, alright, _endearingly_ ) on the side of justice, and this perceived _in_ justice rankles him. He frowns and slows his pace so as to fall into step beside her. "The fact that you've been to most of the places Dumbledore wants us to keep an eye on just _proves_ that you're the most qualified to be on the team," he argues.

James hums, "That is a good point. Still, you've been to most of these mansions too."

Sirius waves this away with a short, "Yeah, years ago. I hardly remember the layout of them though."

"Well it's not as if you're going inside anyway," Vivian says, and hooks an arm around Sirius's to drag him to a halt. "Look, it's getting late. Sirius and I are heading to the cottage."

Sirius pauses, glancing mournfully back at his friends, and whines, "But I thought we could go get a pint together."

Vivian snorts, "Well _I'm_ leaving. I don't care what _you_ do." Her voice is perfectly nonchalant in the most enticingly insulting manner, which naturally makes Remus and James smirk. As for Sirius, he looks mockingly offended and puts a hand dramatically on his chest as he turns to stare at her.

"You don't care?" he repeats, sounding scandalized.

She rolls her eyes at him. "Goodnight, Lily."

Lily sends her a nod and, much to their combined amusement, watches as Sirius scoffs and throws an arm around Vivian's shoulders as if he's completely unwilling to let her go.

"Right. Goodnight, Lily," Sirius says as well, ignoring the other Marauders because he knows full well what they're thinking. As for what, exactly, that is…

"You are so whipped, Padfoot," James snickers.

"It's so pathetic," Remus smirks.

Peter nods, not verbally agreeing but obviously in congruence.

Sirius scowls at them. "Oi, that is not true!"

But Vivian only smirks and drawls, "It's definitely true," which Sirius doesn't entirely appreciate, by the by, and makes sure to inform her of this on their way home, much to her amusement.

"I am not whipped," he complains, throwing open the door of the cottage.

"Okay," she responds, mostly ignoring him.

"I'm _not."_

"What do you want for dinner?"

He huffs at her, but after a moment, grudgingly suggests, "…Take-away?"

She smirks at him and crosses her arms, "Alright. But since I don't understand how to use those weird muggle things, you can place the order and go pick it up."

Sirius sighs, "They're called 'telephones', Vivian, and I know what you're doing."

She doesn't even try to be innocent when she drawls, "Pray tell, what am I doing, Sirius?"

He glowers at her, but the corner of his mouth curves into a faintly amused smile even as his eyes narrow, which rather takes away from the look. With a haughty sniff, he steps towards her. "You know," he begins slowly, "it's been two weeks since we moved in together…"

She eyes him, taking a step back. "And?"

He smirks, "And I get that you're afraid you'll be seduced by my mere presence – I mean, who could blame you? – but that mattress I've been sleeping on is really uncomfortable."

She hums and sarcastically replies, "Yes, I've _always_ been worried that I'd take one look at you and be seduced by your _mere presence."_

He barks out a laugh but, undeterred, corners her against the counter and murmurs, "Sleep next to me tonight, Vivian."

She stares at him, presses down the unfortunate desire to do precisely what she had just sarcastically mocked, and responds, "…Maybe if you admit that I've got you whipped."

This, naturally, takes him aback, because he promptly begins to splutter, "That's – that's entirely unfair – "

Her mouth curls into her best Slytherin smirk. The sight of it makes him fall silent, but only because he's overcome with the desire to kiss over it and mold her mouth to his own. With an impatient huff, he mutters, "You are such an arse, Vivian Blair."

She scoffs and curls her arms around his neck, not at all insulted by this. "I know," she proudly returns, and smirks widely.

He rolls his eyes at her, but drags her closer anyway, because some part of him does have to admit that he'd do anything for her…but he'd never admit it, of course.

* * *

Contrary to Sirius's indignation over the notion that Vivian hasn't been given any official missions yet, Vivian herself doesn't entirely mind. She isn't positive that her father is looking for her, but neither would she be surprised if he was, and besides, she has plenty of other things to occupy herself with. For example, figuring out how to survive without a house-elf.

Now it isn't as if she thinks herself to be completely useless, but having grown up in an environment where she hadn't needed to learn how to cook or keep house has certain ramifications to her current lifestyle. Had Sirius not thoroughly messed up the natural course of her life, she would have married into another pureblood family and never would have bothered herself with such things, but as it is…

"Er. It smells like something's burning," Lily hesitantly informs her when she steps into the cottage later that week. Vivian, who had gotten up to let her inside, glances toward the kitchen with furrowed brows.

"That's probably because something _is_ burning," she mutters, and darts off before Lily can say another word. Lily raises an eyebrow at her abrupt departure and glances around at the sitting room, vaguely listening to Vivian's cursing as it drifts into the rest of the house. An amused smile curves her mouth. She sets her purse down by the door and heads over to assist. Upon reaching the kitchen doorway, though, Lily quickly realizes that assisting is most certainly not going to cut it, because there isn't much she can do.

"What was that supposed to be?" she wonders, eyeing what looks like a charred pot roast that Vivian had just pulled from a very smoky oven. Honestly, if she had actually learned proper cooking spells for this, she wouldn't even try to use these weird muggle contraptions…

"…Maybe you shouldn't ask," Vivian responds, and begins flapping a dishtowel at the open oven, hoping to dispel the smoke. It doesn't really work, so Lily steps over to the back door a few paces away and open it to help ventilate the space, then pulls out her wand to direct the smoke outside. Meanwhile Vivian glowers at the charred remains of the dinner she had slaved over for the better half of the day as if it has given her personal insult.

Honestly. She doesn't care if she's a good cook or not, but this is a bit ridiculous even for her low standards.

Lily coughs, waving a hand in front of her face as she laughs, "It's a good thing the boys are gone or they'd be taking the mickey out of you."

Vivian grumbles to herself and, throwing down the dishtowel, bemoans, "At this rate, Sirius will use all of his inheritance on take-out. This is the third time this has happened. _This week."_

Lily raises an eyebrow and shrugs, "So you're not good at cooking. It's not a big deal, Vivian."

Now, considering the fact that Vivian and Lily have only just begun to grow closer since graduating Hogwarts some months ago, it is a bit strange to hear Lily attempt to make her better, especially about something so infantile. She feels even more ridiculous in the wake of it, in fact, and huffs, "Yeah, I know. I just thought I'd have gotten better by now. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Lily's been to the cottage only once before, arriving with James to give her and Sirius a proper housewarming gift. ("If you're going to give them _firewhiskey,_ James, don't drink it all on them _._ Honestly.") The pair hadn't been able to stay for very long as James had loudly and smugly proclaimed that he was taking his Lilyflower out on a _real date,_ all proper-like, to an actual restaurant (Lily had rolled her eyes at this but notably hadn't told him to shove off like she might've in times past). Point is, though, that Lily hadn't actually told Vivian she'd be stopping by, which Vivian would have dryly reminded her is quite rude if she isn't so relieved to have someone with her in case she accidentally burns the house down. (She'll remind her that it's rude later, just to be thorough, and only after the threat of death-by-fire has diminished.)

"I just thought I'd see how you were doing is all," Lily shrugs, stepping over to the cookbook that Vivian had left open on the counter and had, admittedly, only briefly read. As Lily peruses the recipe, she adds, "Considering that we're both dating two of the most frustrating men on the planet, I thought we ought to become better friends, that way we can complain about them when they're not around."

Those two frustrating men happen to be out on a mission at the moment, and aren't due to be back for a few hours yet. Speaking of complaints, Sirius had many of his own before leaving to meet up with James, claiming that stake-out missions are sure to be 'boring' and 'not exciting enough'. Vivian's response had been entirely unremorseful which had made him complain even more. Yes, she supposes that Lily does make a good point.

With a snicker, Vivian says, "That's true enough. How was your date with Potter, anyway?"

Lily smiles. She pulls out a chair around the small circular table that is currently housing the remnants of Vivian's failed dinner and sighs, "It was great. He does have _some_ redeeming qualities."

Vivian laughs. "Does he?" she sarcastically wonders, and sits down too, content to ignore the charred pot roast for now.

"He's not as bad as I thought he was, but I guess you understand that more than anyone," Lily points out with a subtle smirk, and adds, "You and Sirius have been moving pretty fast."

Now, this is something that Vivian herself has considered in recent weeks, ever since they had begun the process of moving into this cottage, but it feels strange to hear Lily say it out loud. She pauses and, feeling the slightest hint of an insult in Lily's words, drawls, "Well we don't really have any other choice, unless we want to bunk with James's parents for the foreseeable future. I can't exactly go back home you know."

Lily must hear the offended lilt in Vivian's voice because she's quick to say, "I didn't mean it as a bad thing, Vivian. I only meant that you've come a long way…and besides, it's understandable considering your circumstances. I mean, people are eloping left and right these days. Did you hear about Frank and Alice? They got married last week, it was a really quiet affair."

Mention of eloping makes Vivian flush somewhat. She clears her throat and mutters, "Sirius and I aren't planning on…doing _that_ any time soon."

The way she says it, too reluctant to even say the words, makes Lily clear her throat to avoid laughing. Still, she can't help but lift an eyebrow and ask, "You mean _get married?"_

Vivian glowers at her. "Yes. That."

This time, Lily does laugh, and Vivian rolls her eyes at her in response.

"To be honest, I can't imagine Sirius getting married," Lily shrugs, still smiling with a bit more amusement than Vivian appreciates. She watches as Lily leans back in her chair and snorts, "He likes to claim that he's an eternal bachelor and all that."

With a snort of her own, Vivian replies, "Yes, I know." Still, she can't help but smile, amused at the thought.

Lily sends her a smile. "Still," she murmurs after a moment, "if he was going to marry anyone, it'd definitely be you, Vivian. He's so in love with you it's nauseating to watch."

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Vivian flushes just so. "Well…I'm happy with the way things are right now," she awkwardly responds, not knowing what else to say.

Lily seems to understand, because she sends her a quiet smile before glancing at the pot roast and suggesting, "So…do you want some help with dinner? I'm not the best cook either but I reckon we could figure something out."

Vivian's response to this is to groan, "I'd really rather not."

Lily, though, stands up with a laughing, "Come on. Honestly, you're rather good at potions, aren't you? Cooking isn't _that_ different, once you get the hang of it."

Vivian adamantly disagrees with this statement, but ultimately doesn't try to stop Lily. She _does_ like the thought of eating something besides take-away tonight, after all.


	4. Pro salute animi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as many of you have doubtlessly noticed in these last few chapters, I've been having trouble with the writing process of this story. I am going to put the weekly updates on pause for the next few weeks so that I can write Regimentum without worrying about meeting the weekly deadline that I've set for myself. It's become clear to me that I have reached a crossroads with this story: I can either continue posting poorer quality chapters each week or I can take a break from weekly updates to properly get into the story. My previous two week hiatus wasn't as effective as I'd hoped! I really didn't want to do this because I know how frustrating it can be to wait for chapters, but I feel that it would be a disservice to Vivian and Sirius to continue posting chapters that I'm not completely happy with. I don't want any of you to worry though. This hiatus will be temporary and hopefully short. I am hopeful that it won't be longer than a month, and then weekly updates will continue. I just need to get into the flow of this story and get a better feel for how to go about writing the first wizarding war, which is difficult in itself since Rowling never went into a whole lot of detail regarding the events therein. Please don't worry that I'll end up dropping this story, because that won't happen. I am thoroughly invested in writing Vivian and Sirius's story until the end! Thank you all for being so supportive and understanding :) 
> 
> I am a bit unsure when the next chapter will be out, but as I said above, I'm hoping it won't be longer than a month maximum. In the meantime, I hope you all have a lovely next few weeks until we meet again ;D

**Chapter Four | Pro salute animi**

**[For the welfare of the soul]**

When the Marauders return to the small cottage in Tinworth, the world around them is dark, bathed in a dark grey pallor that boasts the oncoming night and glittering with the first stars to show their light in the sky above. It is a swarthy evening, warm and humid from the rain shower several hours before, and the four of them trudge towards the door with frowning faces. The mission doesn't go according to plan. They were noticed, and then promptly evaded before they could find out any useful information at all.

Their spirits are low as a result. Tired and in a foul mood from running around London all day, James had wanted to head back to Godric's Hollow and attempt to forget their failures, but Sirius had convinced him to have a glass of firewhiskey before he calls it a night, and had successfully managed to wrangle Remus and Peter into it as well. The former hadn't complained and had just shrugged in acquiescence; the latter had argued a bit more. Peter, unfortunately, had the worst day of them all. He is apparently not cut out for undercover missions, even though they've all had their fair share back in Hogwarts. Sneaking out in the middle of the night to set up pranks on unsuspecting Slytherins and other Targets doesn't quite translate to the real world in the way they had expected.

"I almost miss Hogwarts," James mutters as the cottage comes into view in the distance. "Everything seems so much harder somehow."

They had apparated just outside the small muggle village to avoid the wards Sirius and Vivian have been gradually placing on the house. The first ward they had conjured had been an anti-muggle one. The second, an anti-apparition spell. The layers of protection around the cottage had been at Vivian's behest, mainly. Sirius suspects her interest isn't merely to protect them from anyone who might come calling, though, but also a desire to do something that makes her feel at least somewhat useful. She excels at spells and incantations and had even surprised him with a few protection wards of her own creation.

"Well, we shouldn't let the Order completely rule our lives," Remus says. "You and Sirius should apply to the Auror's office like you wanted."

The thought makes Sirius glance at him. "You think? McGonagall told me that the training is intense, though…we wouldn't have much time for missions if we went through with it."

On his other side, James shrugs, "True, but it'd give us a lot more experience and it is what we want to do. What about you, Pete? Any plans?"

Peter, who has been sullenly silent since his contribution to their botched mission (he had been the first of them to be noticed), looks up in surprise at having been addressed and grudgingly responds, "Er…no. I'm not really good at anything…"

The other Marauders eye him for a moment, unsure what to say to that. To be honest, most of them are in partial agreement, but then again, everyone is good at something. Perhaps Peter just hasn't realized what that is, yet.

Remus throws an arm around Peter's shoulders and says, "That's not true, Wormtail. You're good at plenty of things."

James quickly nods, "Yeah. Herbology, for example."

Sirius snorts, "Herbology? That's the best you could come up with?"

James turn to narrow his eyes at him and mutters, "You're not helping."

Sirius laughs, "I'm just saying that there's not a lot you can actually do with herbology – "

"I killed most of the plants I was assigned in class," Peter glumly reminds them, evidently deciding not to take Sirius's sarcasm to heart because he doesn't possess enough talent in the subject for it to matter one way or the other.

Sirius snickers and shoves Remus's arm off of Peter so as to throw his own around his shoulders instead. Then he declares, "Peter's greatest talent is to be our look-out. In fact, it might be his only one."

The other two, after a moment's consideration of this, laugh at Peter's expense as they are wont to do, and in the way boys like to laugh whenever they are in the mood to take the mickey out of a friend, so to speak. This is hardly an irregular occurrence for any of them, as they have and would do the very same thing if James, or Sirius, or Remus was the one being torn into. However, on this particular night, after the failure of their mission and the state it had put Peter in, he isn't entirely in the mood to deal with being the butt end of their latest joke. And besides, though they might not see it themselves, he is in this particular position far more often than any of them, and over the years it has certainly grown old.

With a pursed mouth, Peter throws Sirius's arm off of his shoulders and gruffly says, "I'm not in the mood for a firewhiskey after all, Padfoot."

The embittered tone that his voice takes on when he utters these words does wonders at dispelling the others' laughter, though there is still a notable amount of amusement in Sirius's eyes when he turns them to Peter. Remus is the only one who truly calms down enough to realize that it isn't the best time to harass Peter with any of their usual jokes and antics, but the other two aren't quite as observant. Then again, when it comes to Peter, they rarely ever are.

"Are you gonna go home and complain to your mum about your day?" James asks, raising a brow.

"Come on, Pete, she can wait. I'm sure she'll still tuck you in later," Sirius laughs.

"Besides, we've all had a bad day and I'm sure Sirius has something else other than firewhiskey," James adds.

Sirius pauses, then shrugs, "Yeah maybe, I have no idea. Vivian'll get something for you I guess."

"You know, your life is starting to look a bit like those old muggle shows about housewives," James snorts. "I'm surprised Pride is letting you get away with treating her like a piece of furniture."

Peter completely forgotten, Sirius rounds on James with a spluttered, _"A piece of furniture?_ How am I doing _that?"_

James appears quite happy to have successfully insulted his friend and gleefully responds, "Oh let's see…you're the one assigned to these missions while she waits for you at home, cooking, cleaning, and doing whatever else Pride does when she's alone. I mean, do you even let her out of the house these days?"

Sirius appears rather rankled at this question and exclaims, "Well I don't keep her chained in the attic, if that's what you mean!"

James smirks, "Oh, kinky."

Sirius shoves him but alas, scuffles are second nature to them by now, honed from years of friendship and arguments. James grabs Sirius's arm at the last moment to catch his fall and the momentum sends them both to the ground. The good thing is that the fall itself isn't so awful, as the grass provides something of a cushion; the bad thing is that they are currently on a small hill that rolls its way towards the cottage beyond where they stand. The manner in which they both tumble down it is incredibly entertaining to one Remus Lupin, who bursts out into such intense laughter that it summons tears to his eyes. There is just something so rewarding about watching Sirius spit out blades of grass and James attempt to get the dirt out of his messy hair.

"Look, all I'm saying is that she's gonna end up regretting her decision to leave her family if you don't give her more options," James groans as he sits up, evidently deciding that their latest mishap isn't going to get in the way of the conversation.

Sirius snorts at him and, glowering through the gathering darkness, mutters, "She can do whatever she likes. Besides, it's not as if I could stop her anyway – hey, where's Pete?"

Remus, who had just rejoined the pair, pauses and glances behind him at where Peter had been standing before James and Sirius had spectacularly tripped their way down the hill. Sometime during this loud spectacle, Peter must have disapparated, because he is nowhere to be seen.

James raises his eyebrows and says, "…Rather rude of him to just leave like that."

Remus sighs, _"You_ two were being a bit rude to _him."_ He sends them a look that is clearly an attempt to make them realize the solemnity of this explanation, but it only does the exact opposite, which he supposes shouldn't surprise him. He could count on one hand the number of times such tactics have actually made James or Sirius realize the error of their ways.

"Oh come off it, Moony. You laughed too," Sirius calls him out, pushing himself off the ground. "Besides, Peter's always been too sensitive. We didn't even say anything bad."

James nods, "It's not our fault that he can't take a joke."

"He always gets so insulted whenever we bring up his mum," Sirius muses as the three of them resume the short journey to the cottage.

"If he didn't, it wouldn't be so much fun to talk about her," James snickers, then glances over at Sirius and says, "Anyway, it's called getting a job, Sirius. Maybe you should bring it up to her. It'd give her something to do."

For a moment, Sirius looks slightly confused, having momentarily forgotten about their previous conversation. Once he realizes what James is saying, he rolls his eyes at him and exclaims, "We _just_ moved into this place, Prongs. If Vivian wants to get a job, then she hasn't said anything about it to me – why do you care, anyway?" He eyes him suspiciously.

James clears his throat and shrugs, "I don't." The words come a little too quickly to be genuine. Sirius, naturally, catches onto this. James is his best mate and he's known him for years, after all. He stares at him with prompting eyes, making it clear that he doesn't believe him and is waiting for an explanation, which grudgingly comes not long after by an impatient and slightly embarrassed James.

"Okay fine," he mutters. "I just think, you know, the whole notion of buying a cottage in the countryside and moving in together after graduation? It's all very glamorous, but I don't think it's lived up to Pride's expectations so far."

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "…I'm still not sure why you care. You're not the one living with her."

Beside them, Remus seems equally lost, which only seems to make James even more impatient.

"Right," James coughs. "It's just that Pride's grown on me a bit, you know? I mean, she's not _awful,_ for a Slytherin."

Remus snorts out a laugh. Sirius slowly smirks.

"You're so full of it, Prongs," he says in a goading tone. "Maybe you should focus on your dear Lilyflower, yeah? Leave the Slytherin to me."

James pauses for one indignant second before rolling his eyes. "I fully intend to, Padfoot. Lily and I have started talking about getting our own place, too, you know? She was thinking about applying for a job at the Ministry to be of more use to the Order. All I'm saying is that maybe Vivian should think about doing something like that too."

Sirius shrugs, "Well, I'll talk to her about it I guess."

"And look, I went ahead and made a trip to the Auror's office earlier this week," James adds, without appearing to hear him. He digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a heavily folded piece of paper, which he promptly shoves at Sirius. "I got us both an application."

Sirius doesn't seem to know what to say. He takes the paper and unfolds it. In the final vestiges of the evening's faint light, he glances down at the parchment with a curious expression, and murmurs, "So you really reckon we should go for it, then? What about you, Remus? Fancy being an Auror?"

Remus, who seems content to walk alongside them and quietly enjoy the dusk, points out, "I wouldn't be able to even if I wanted to apply." His voice is light, but there's a hint of bitterness to his words that cannot be ignored.

Sirius, realizing his mistake, mutters, "…Right. Sorry, mate."

Remus only shrugs, "S'alright. I had to register my situation with the Ministry after graduation. My secret's officially out, now. Not many people will want to hire me, least not the Auror office."

The other two fall silent for a moment as they mull over this, both feeling rather bad for their friend, who out of all of them deserves a proper, decent paying job. But it's true. No one will want to hire a werewolf, not even one like Remus Lupin.

"Well…I'll look this over later," Sirius mumbles, and shoves the application into his pocket. They are nearing the door to the cottage now, and as such, their conversation must come to an end. As the three approach the door, the scent of cooking lingers in the air, and the quiet sound of chatter from within the cottage catches their attention. It's strange because both of these things happen to go against two major aspects of their life since moving into the cottage, namely the fact that Vivian is a shite cook (and, alright, he isn't that great either) and that she isn't one for having company over.

Sirius tilts his head curiously as he reaches for the door. She hadn't mentioned that she was expecting anyone. The moment he pushes open the door, however, it becomes rather clear who the other person is, because James promptly barrels past Sirius before he can even take a step into his new home and loudly greets, "Lily!"

Sirius and Remus both look at each other with exasperated expressions before following their friend, who at this point has already reached Lily's side and is grinning down at her as if her presence here is a godsend.

"I didn't know you were visiting Pride today," he says. "Why didn't you mention it?" Then, backtracking, he happens to take a proper look at the table in which the two are sitting at and theatrically gasps, "Pride. Did you…did you _cook this?_ _Without_ burning the house down?"

Pride, who had just taken her wand out to wave her and Lily's empty plates to the sink, sends him a deadpan glower, clearly not appreciating his amused question.

"Shove off, Potter," is all she says, then glances over at Sirius and Remus and raises her eyebrows. "What is this, your second home? Why did you bring this idiot back with you, Sirius?"

Sirius smirks and leans against the kitchen doorway. Remus coughs out a laugh. Lily sits back and glances over at James. James…well.

"Just for that, maybe I _should_ make this my second home," James sniffs, and helps himself to the chair beside Lily before pulling what looks like a casserole of some kind towards him. "Can I have a plate, Pride? And a fork. Oh, and some water."

Naturally, Pride doesn't move to accommodate him and just quirks a brow at him. The challenging expression certainly doesn't appear to intimidate James, who smiles innocently back at her as if he thinks that by pretending to be an angel, perhaps Vivian will actually believe that he has become one. Alas, she knows James Potter a little too well and is all too aware that 'an angel' is probably the last thing she would describe him as.

Sirius shakes his head at his friend and strides towards the table too, eyeing the casserole curiously. It smells rather good. Nothing's been burnt at all, which can only mean one thing. He turns to grin at Lily and says, "Looks good, Evans. Maybe you should come over and make dinner _every_ night."

He expertly ignores the glower Vivian sends him and heads to the cabinet to get a few plates.

"So how did your mission go?" Lily asks James after sending Vivian an amused look (which isn't returned, by the by). She turns towards him as Sirius hands out the plates and sits down next to Vivian. Remus pulls up a chair too, and soon they are all digging into the dinner that Lily had made.

James groans, "Awful. Pete was seen just as we were heading into Knockturn Alley. Everything went to hell pretty quickly after that."

Around a mouthful of casserole, Sirius adds, "I think we should just take Peter off these missions entirely. Or have him transform into a rat at the very least."

Remus hums, "That's actually not a bad idea…"

A snort leaves Vivian's throat. They all glance at her, and she points out, "If he's seen transforming, he'll be fined. Heavily. You lot never registered your animagus forms with the Ministry."

The Marauders, of course, don't seem to be overly concerned, not that this surprises her.

"He wouldn't be seen," James shrugs. "And best of all, he wouldn't be seen by any of the people we've been tasked to follow, either."

Lily waves all of this away and says, "Well never mind all that. After you were seen, what happened? You didn't get into a fight, did you?" She eyes James carefully, even though he appears just as healthy as ever.

"No. We ended up leaving Knockturn Alley," Remus says.

James sighs and adds, "There's always next time though," in a voice that he probably means to be optimistic, but just ends up being muffled around his mouthful of food.

The group talks for a while longer about the botched mission before Lily stands up to take her leave, claiming that her parents will surely be worried about her prolonged absence. Besides Sirius and Vivian, the others are still living at home while they work to get on their feet. They didn't receive the same financial assistance that Sirius had, when his Uncle Alphard left him his inheritance, and don't have quite the same amount of agency or even desire, yet, to make it on their own in the world.

"I'll escort you home, Lilyflower," James jumps to offer, clamoring to his feet with a wide smile. Lily makes a show of appearing pleasantly exasperated with him, but everyone knows that she doesn't actually mind.

"Let's all meet up at the Leaky Cauldron next week," Sirius says as the pair, plus Remus, gathers their things to leave. "And you should probably invite Peter as well or else he'll think we're ignoring him."

Remus hums, "I'll swing by his place later and let him know."

James, who is gallantly escorting Lily to the door with a bit more gusto than is strictly necessary, chimes, "Great, see you then – Lily, are you sure you're not cold?"

"It's the middle of summer, James."

"I'm just making sure."

"You're nagging me."

" _Nagging_ you? I thoroughly resent that!""

The rest of their conversation is cut off as Sirius shuts the door on them with an eyeroll and sends Vivian an exasperated look of his own. She snorts out a smile as he approaches her, though it turns into an expression of confusion when she watches him pull something out of his pocket. It's a folded up piece of parchment, heavily creased in some areas as if it had been carelessly shoved into his pocket earlier that day and promptly forgotten. Sirius unfolds it and hands it over to her without explanation, then leans against the small kitchen table and watches her scan through it as if he is heavily anticipating her reaction.

Upon her scan of the page, it's apparent that the parchment is in fact an application which has yet to be filled out. She looks back up at Sirius and muses, "…An Auror?"

Sirius shoves his hands into his now empty pockets and shrugs, appearing fairly laidback. His voice, though, gives his anticipation away. "James went to the Ministry to pick it up. He's planning on filling one out, too." Then, pausing, he clears his throat and quickly asks, "What do you think?"

That he seems to find her opinion important and even necessary is somewhat flattering in a way she can't quite describe. Only a year ago, he wouldn't have given any such consideration to her, and doubtlessly would have laughed at the thought that he one day would. But it's clear that he cares what she thinks, because he watches her with eyes that seem darker in the quiet light of the several candles that float in the air above them, illuminating the now-blackening night that darkens the house.

Vivian shrugs. Yes, she's a bit flattered. She's also a bit confused as to why her opinion matters to him so much. Sirius has always done whatever he thinks is best, regardless of what other people think.

"It's what you wanted to do with your life, isn't it?" she asks. "So do it."

For some reason, he seems surprised at her immediate acceptance. This confuses her even more. Vivian eyes him with a raised brow and wonders, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sirius pauses for half a second, thoughts swirling with James's words from before, and slowly says, "I just…er…Vivian, are you…happy here? With me?"

That last question seems even more cautious than the first, the words piled onto the end of it as if they are a last-minute addition to an already bewildering enquiry. She stares at him in quiet surprise that he would even ask at all, especially since they had only just moved in to begin with, and responds, "Yes. Why, do you think I'd rather be back at my family's manor, getting ready to marry Adrian Mulciber?"

The reminder makes him purse his mouth in a thoughtful sort of way. He studies her closely before muttering, "It's just…I know things haven't been easy for you, letting go of your old life so quickly and all…and James mentioned that Lily was thinking of applying to St. Mungo's and I thought maybe you wanted to get a job too – not that you need to or anything, I've got enough money from my uncle and if I get a job as an Auror then – "

"Sirius. You're rambling," Vivian informs him, and mercifully cuts him off. He's rather thankful for it, to be honest, because he isn't really accustomed to being so unsure.

He sends her a reticent smile and says, "Right. James thought I should talk to you about it." He shrugs, and his smile grows a touch more genuine when Vivian begins to glower at this.

"Potter should keep his nose out of our business," she scoffs, handing back the application. Sirius takes it and folds it back up, though he doesn't take his eyes off of her as she sighs, "I chose this, Sirius. I knew it wasn't going to be easy but this is what I want."

The smile he sends her then is a quiet mixture of relief and boyish happiness, which shines through his eyes so thoroughly that Vivian can't help but scoff out a smile in response.


	5. Ambigendi locus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back everyone! Ah I've missed uploading chapters so much. Thank you all for your patience. I definitely needed that break to get my thoughts in order for this plot. I have a much better idea of where I'm going to take the story and will be resuming my weekly updates now. Thanks to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter, I really missed hearing from all of you during the last month! I hope you'll all continue reading the story despite the hiatus :)

**Chapter Five | Ambigendi locus**

**[Room for Doubt]**

Vivian doesn't much believe in providence. She finds the term rather archaic; a product of a bygone age, when life was modeled upon themes of right and wrong with no shades between to mark the passage of human existence. Providence, they say, came to those deserving of it. Providence was a gift from God who pushes forward the world. Concerning her own life thus far, Vivian doesn't believe in any force greater than her own, and therefore doesn't think much of it when she happens upon the grace of superintendence, whether divinely extended or not. But that is often the way of things. Rarely do we see beyond the superficial until much later, when hindsight gives us clarity enough to look behind the curtain that shrouds the deeper meanings from view. As for Vivian's own clarity, hindsight will not come to her for some years yet.

"…See anyone?" Sirius murmurs to her as they walk through the main lobby of the Ministry. Swarms of employees bustle past them; latecomers to work, or those with varying hours as compared to their fellows. It's after rush hour at this point, but the Ministry of Magic is always busy, it seems. In addition to those wearing the standard Ministry robes, others, like Sirius and Vivian, are a part of the bustle. Filing information, registering with various departments, attending court hearings – there are innumerous reasons.

Vivian shakes her head and responds, "Not yet, but it's bound to happen at some point."

What, exactly, is bound to happen is this: Vivian, who had not been out in the open like this for some months now, is taking something of a risk by walking into the Ministry of Magic like this. After all, the Ministry is filled with purebloods who share the same circle as her father, who she hasn't heard from since before graduating Hogwarts in the spring. The one letter her mother had sent her since then had informed her that her father was hoping to find her and speak with her. Vivian translates this to mean that he wishes to knock some sense into her by reminding her that stepping away from her family equates to losing her inheritance and smearing the Blair name beyond recognition, at least in his eyes. In any case, the thought of running into her father's colleagues doesn't entirely appeal to her for a variety of reasons, but neither does the thought of staying put in the cottage. When Sirius had informed her that he meant to go to the Ministry to speak with Moody about working in the Auror department, she had decided to go with him. He had, naturally, pointed out the likelihood of her running into an old acquaintance of her father's, but hadn't tried to bar her from coming. Sirius Black is much too daring to be bothered with all that. In fact, though he hasn't outright said so, Vivian suspects that he _wants_ to run into a pureblood while they're here, if only to make his day a little brighter with some proper Death Eater harassment.

"Well, stay close," Sirius responds, though he doesn't sound very concerned. They are, after all, in a large crowd, and even if they do run into someone they know, it isn't as if said someone can do anything about their presence. They can't very well start firing stunning spells at them in the middle of the Ministry of Magic – not unless they want to expose themselves for the Death Eaters they are. This is probably why Sirius hadn't tried stopping her; he's half hoping that this is exactly what will happen, even though he knows that the likelihood isn't very high. Slytherins don't operate with that sort of recklessness, usually. He would know. He's become a bit of an expert.

"James owled me this morning, by the way," he tells her as they head to the lift that will take them deeper into the Ministry. "He wants to take a rain check for tonight."

Vivian shoots him a raised brow. "He's the one who wanted to get us all together, and now he's backing out?"

They were supposed to meet the other Marauders at a muggle pub that night. Vivian had done her utmost to pretend not to be excited about it for the survival of her reputation, but in truth, she had been looking forward to venturing out into the muggle world. The last few Order meetings had brought them to the heart of muggle London, but they hadn't had the time nor the inclination to go exploring. Besides that, she does have to admit that she had grudgingly been looking forward to seeing the Marauders too, though she had made certain to pretend otherwise. Reputations are very important, you know, especially when dealing with pests like James Potter.

Sirius shoots her a faint smirk and drawls, "Do I detect a hint of _disappointment_ in your voice, Vivian?"

She rolls her eyes, shouldering past him into the lift and sending a Slytherin glower at a man who is already standing inside. "As if I'd ever be happy to see your ridiculous friends," she grumbles, but her voice lacks the same hardness that it used to possesses, back when she might have said those words with more resolution. Sirius's smirk widens.

"Right, right," he murmurs, keeping his voice low as he joins her on the crowded elevator. "I guess that means you're happy enough having only me for company." He grins at the scowl she throws at him.

"You know, I've been playing around with a spell that only allows specific people into the wards we've set up. It's an alteration of the Caterwauling charm, without all the ruckus." Vivian crosses her arms and arranges her expression into one of boredom as she stares at the doors of the lift, which remain open as several additional Ministry employees hurry to enter it. As everyone shuffles about to give them room, Vivian leans against the back wall and finishes, "I wonder what would happen if I banned _you."_

Her mouth threatens to twitch up when Sirius turns to eye her, half inclined to take her threat seriously. One can never be too sure, he has learned, when it comes to Vivian Blair. Of course, the cool manner in which she delivers her threat rather lessens when the elevator doors abruptly swing closed and the entire thing lurches upward. When Vivian, who had been casually leaning against the wall and entirely unprepared, grabs a fistful of his shirt to prevent herself from falling, the only thing that threatens him is the renewed grin that spreads over his face.

With a full-blown smirk curling over his mouth, Sirius swings an arm around her waist to steady her and murmurs, "Please. I doubt you'd last a day without me, Godric."

Vivian pauses just long enough to summon another scowl, but alas, the force of it is further lessoned from the slight embarrassment that can be faintly detected in her eyes. She elbows him, casts a glance around the elevator to see if anyone had noticed, and wraps her fingers around the cool metal bar that extends around the entirety of it. She notably doesn't attempt to wrangle his arm from around her waist, though, which is not lost on him.

"I could last _plenty_ of days without you," she mutters at him, just because she can.

He snorts. "I give you a week, tops," he nonchalantly responds. "After that, you'd probably burn the house down trying to turn the oven on with magic."

Ah, well, Vivian might have tried that a few times over the past few months, but to be fair, she's never actually worked an oven before. Sure, she vaguely recalls learning that magic doesn't work on muggle appliances, but she'd dropped Muggle Studies the first moment she could back at Hogwarts, so her new life requires something of a learning curve. Anyway, she hasn't tried using _Incendio_ to start a fire in the oven for a while now, ever since Sirius had explained to her what 'electricity' is, and how 'muggles use these things called wires, which connect to this thing called propane, which the muggles use to heat their homes'. That conversation had been illuminating, if not a bit circular, as Sirius hadn't been able to answer any of the other questions she'd had concerning how all of these things actually _work_. The muggle world is a lot more complicated than she'd thought.

"…I haven't tried doing that lately," Vivian grumbles at him, and ignores the widening of his smirk when he realizes she has nothing better to say. Damned Gryffindor. Her annoyance fades somewhat when she feels his thumb brushing against her hip, though, and a bolt of warmth slivers through her. She doesn't look at him, and he doesn't look at her, but somehow he still manages to cultivate a quiet intensity in his touch even though they are hardly alone. It's a feeling she'd never felt before he barreled into her life; a sort of silent affection which doesn't need words to be drawn forth. She feels her halfhearted scowl twitch into a tiny smile as they reach the first floor.

No one else pays them any mind, two young adults as they are, who clearly aren't Ministry employees. The others on the lift come and go. Sirius and Vivian remain toward the back until the cool voice overhead informs them that this is their stop. When the doors open, Sirius takes the lead and steps out into a rather shabby looking lobby, no more than ten feet across with several doors leading off of it. No one else follows them onto this floor. Once the lift closes its doors and shuttles off to its next stop, they are alone.

Well, sort of. No sooner than they step into the small, unimpressive lobby does one equally unimpressive witch come bumbling through one of the doorways, muttering to herself as she carries a strange looking box that she appears to be struggling with. Every few seconds, the box jerks a bit in her hands, as if its contents are attempting to come out. Vivian and Sirius both pause to watch the debacle, until the woman sees them and explains with a harried, "Enchanted muggle rubber ducks. Someone's idea of a joke, I reckon. Merlin, why I thought it was a good idea to work with that bizarre man, I'll never know…" She releases an annoyed grumble and sidesteps them on her way to the elevator, continuing her mumbles as she goes.

"…We are on the right floor, aren't we?" Vivian hisses at Sirius, eyeing the woman with a heavy helping of imperiousness. Then, with confusion tainting her voice, she adds, "And what in Merlin's name is a _rubber duck,_ Sirius?"

Sirius shrugs, looking a bit lost by comparison, and responds, "Er. I think we're in the right place…and I think I'll let James answer that question." The faint amusement in his voice doesn't bode well. She decides that it would be in her best interest not to ask Potter after all.

They are indeed on the right floor, however, which they discover the moment they file through the leftmost door and into the smaller corridor beyond. Moody's haphazard directions, which he had barked at Sirius during the last Order meeting the week before, seem to have some merit to them, because they do appear to be in the right place. On the wall of the corridor that they are now walking down are dozens of 'Wanted' posters with faces of witches and wizards printed thereon, with warnings scrawled on the parchment below their photographs. Things like 'Is known to use Confundus charms – use memory wards if seen', and 'Do not engage and contact the Auror Department immediately'.

"Charming décor," Vivian drawls, eyeing the wall with a growing sense of unease. She doesn't recognize any of the faces, but she isn't surprised about this. Many of her previous acquaintances in the pureblood world are suspected Death Eaters, but until the Ministry has enough proof of this, the Auror Department can't issue an arrest or warn the public about them. Not unless they want to outright declare war, that is. For now, the posters extend only about halfway down the corridor before they disperse.

Sirius grunts. "Too bad we didn't bring a photograph of your father. We could've added him to the list."

The joke isn't in very good taste, mainly because Vivian is well aware that he isn't actually joking, but she snorts anyway. It isn't as if she disagrees.

"If only I had pictures of the lot of them," she mutters in response, thinking of Bellatrix and Rodolphus, of Malfoy and the rest. If only it could be that _easy,_ just a simple act of pinning a photograph to a wall; a few seconds spent on a seemingly menial task, ignoring the red tape set in place to distribute the Ministry's authority on the people, to safeguard the general welfare of the citizens. For the handful of those 'suspected' Death Eaters that Vivian bears witness to, she wishes that she might bend the rules this time. To make an exception.

Alas, though. One exception always leads to another, until a rot takes hold of society; the slow cumulation of agendas too disparaging and secretive to understand in the moment of their inception, but all too apparent when those secrets cast off their shadows and step into the light. Only then it is too late. The rot has already festered within the foundations, and those seemingly insignificant exceptions are at the heart of it.

With a sigh, Vivian continues down the hall with Sirius at her side. The corridor opens up to an office space, with multiple cubicles lining the area. Several busy looking wizards are rushing about holding rolls of parchment. One is carrying what looks like some sort of Dark Detector, though he passes too quickly for Vivian to get a proper look at it. Her father had a few of those instruments in his study, pressed between the books on his shelves. They had been a source of amusement for him and little else. There is no real need for such things when you welcome in the Darkness.

They hear Mad-Eye's voice suddenly bark out an order several cubicles down, and Sirius turns to glance at Vivian before striding forward, weaving around the space in search of the man. Vivian is quick to follow, especially when she receives several looks from the Aurors who see her. They are careful, measuring looks, quickly administered before the eyes turn away, but she can feel those eyes return to her the moment her back is turned and it makes her ill at ease. Surely, they don't know who she is? But then again, if they deal with Dark wizards on a daily basis, then they must know of her father…

The glance that Moody sends her when she appears behind Sirius in the doorway of his cubicle is a little too similar for her liking.

"Blair. Didn't know you'd be tagging along," he gruffly greets, his magical eye spinning around a few times before settling on her with unnerving focus.

She feels slightly irked at the way he says 'tagging along', as if he thinks she has nothing better to do than to follow Sirius about wherever he goes, until she realizes that this isn't very far from the mark. After all, what has she done these last few months? Hide away in the cottage and pretend to busy herself with making it livable while Sirius leaves her behind to help the Order? The few times she had approached Dumbledore after meetings to speak about what she can to do assist the cause, the wizard had brushed her off with a gentle, 'Your father is still searching for you, Vivian. Best keep to yourself for now'. She's starting to grow tired of it.

Sirius sends her a glance before saying, "I didn't think it'd be a problem if she came with me."

Moody doesn't respond for several seconds. Instead, he casts another look at Vivian and studies her, as if he's trying to unravel her thoughts. She sends him a raised brow meant to challenge him, but it only makes his eyes narrow just so and it doesn't appear to help her case.

"Well," he finally grunts out, still eyeing her, "sit down, Sirius. You've got fifteen minutes before I have a meeting with the other Aurors. Can't give you any more time than that." He waves his wand and conjures an uncomfortable looking wooden chair for Sirius to sit in, then turns back to Vivian to say, "Best not wander about, Blair. You don't want to run into any of your…acquaintances."

Vivian stiffens, and not only because of Moody's obvious dismissal. With a narrowed gaze, she forces out, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sirius coughs and opens his mouth to speak, but Moody cuts him off with an unapologetic, "You know well enough what it means, Blair. This place is full of pureblood elites and you'd be smart to keep to yourself. You shouldn't have even come here to begin with."

The words 'keep to yourself' spin through her mind. She grits her teeth, lifts her chin, composes her expression into the very same 'pureblood elitism' that Moody had just mentioned, and starts to say, "I can go wherever I – "

"Vivian, he's just being cautious," Sirius quietly interrupts, much to her annoyance. He steps over to her and, in an undertone, murmurs, "Look, I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes. Mad-Eye is right - don't wander around by yourself."

Vivian stares at him, feeling frustrated, but Sirius only stares back and doesn't waver. She feels, abruptly, as if they're back in one of their shared detentions, on the brink of another scathing argument, ready to hurl insults and hexes at the other. They aren't, though. They're in the Ministry of Magic, and they're being watched by dozens of Aurors who seem not to trust her because of her family name, and she doesn't want to prove them right by acting out in a childish fashion.

"Fine," she responds lowly, her voice cold enough to make Sirius pause and eye her. "I'll just wait in the lobby, then."

She casts one last glance at Moody before turning on her heel and marching out of the Auror department, seething as she goes. She knows she's being a bit childish despite her desire not to be, but frustration tends to draw such things from its bearer. If she's being honest, she isn't even frustrated that Moody doesn't want her listening in on his conversation with Sirius, even though the meeting is only about Sirius's desire to become an Auror. What she's really frustrated about is how this seems to be becoming a common situation for her. Being left out, that is.

Do they not trust her? Hasn't she proven herself to them already, by walking away from her pureblood life? Is that not enough for them? They must think it a simple thing to do, abandoning your home and your inheritance, your foundations and your family. They must think it as easy as breathing.

In truth, it's a lot harder than she had imagined. Perhaps it wouldn't be, if she had an assignment for the Order, something to work towards and focus on, but so far she's been kept at arm's reach. She's been allowed to attend meetings, so they must trust her to some extent, but that's about it. She feels listless. Without purpose.

This isn't the life she had expected.

With a grunt, Vivian storms into the lobby, silently seething at the thought of Moody's careful eyes upon her, and the eyes of his fellows as they had watched her leave. Her exit had drawn their attention again, but this time, they hadn't averted their eyes in an attempt to appear nonchalant. No, instead they had watched her until she had disappeared down the corridor full of wanted posters, as if they thought that perhaps her face deserved to be among those papers. Even then, the photographed eyes of those criminals had stared at her through the lens of their invisible cameras, not giving her any peace. Is this what she had signed up for? To be mistrusted and watched, just because she's the only Slytherin in the Order?

With gritted teeth, Vivian marches to the lift and slams the button to summon it. oh, yes, she had told Sirius that she'd wait for him in the lobby, but when has she ever listened to Sirius Black?

" _Don't wander about by yourself,"_ she mutters with a scoff, repeating Sirius's final words to her before her departure. "As if he has any right to worry about me when he follows Death Eaters around London in his spare time," she scornfully adds. Really, he should know better than to give her a direct order. He knows her well enough that he shouldn't be surprised when she turns around and does the exact opposite, just to spite him.

Damned Gryffindors, the lot of them.

She enters the lift and presses a random button on its panel, shuffling back to lean against the wall of it. As she does, her anger fades somewhat. Here in the silence and solitude of this small contraption, she allows herself to admit that Sirius hadn't meant anything by his order, and that really, it had been more of a request than anything else. It's only that she's frustrated with the fact that she hasn't been given any actual work to do for the Order. The notion that she still hasn't proven herself to the other members rankles her. She had left her entire life behind, everything familiar to her, so as to help their cause and live the life she wants. She knows better than anyone what's at stake should Voldemort win this war. She's been in the midst of his most trusted followers. Hell, she'd nearly married one of them.

This is precisely why they don't fully trust her and she knows it. Moody looks at her like that because he's wondering if she had spent too long in that darkness. He wonders if it has well and truly corrupted her, and if she's only here because she's using the Order to help Voldemort. She's not blind to this. She'd have to be completely stupid not to see it, obvious as it is. Still, Sirius isn't to blame for it. She shouldn't take her anger out on him. He trusts her.

Head swimming with the sting of her fading frustration, Vivian feels a quiet exhaustion sweep through her as the cool voice of the lift announces, 'Department of Magical Education: Committee of Experimental Charms, Department of Magical Artifacts, Magical Maintenance Department, Research Committee, and Wizarding Examinations Committee'. As the voice lists the various departments on this floor, the doors of the lift open and several people clamor inside. Vivian remains where she is, staring gloomily at the opposite wall. The door close and she glances around at her new traveling companions, her lip curling up distastefully at the thought of her peace and quiet being encroached upon. A rather rotund wizard shuffles into the spot in front of her and reaches up to hold onto one of the handles that drops down from the ceiling, shrouding much of her view. She glowers at the back of his balding head as her lip curls higher. With a huff of impatience administered beneath her breath, Vivian shuffles to the side in an attempt to create more space between them. The scent of his stale body odor is not pleasant. But when she begins her sideways exodus, her eyes land on two men who are now standing at the front of the lift, and the sight of the familiar head of black hair makes her freeze where she stands.

She has seen that face before. Those shoulders. That expensive cloak. She's seen him at many a pureblood gathering, turning up his nose at her father for his decision to withdraw Vivian from the contract the two men had agreed upon at her birth. She has seen him lingering by his wife, a most irredeemable woman, who had always eyed Vivian in a manner entirely too hawkish for her liking, as if measuring Vivian's ability to live up to the legacy of the Noble and Most Ancient house of which she hails. Yes, she has seen him. And he isn't alone. The last time she had seen Abraxas Malfoy or Orion Black had been at the Christmas Eve party held at the Malfoy estate. Though that had been over seven months ago, neither of them appears to have changed in the slightest.

Thankfully, their backs are facing her as the lift begins to move towards the next floor, but Vivian still holds her breath as she shifts back to where she had been standing a moment before. She's suddenly grateful for the large wizard who has taken a stand in front of her. If nothing else, his presence provides some measure of cover. The two men don't seem to realize that she's there at all, having entered the lift after her unknowing savior. She stares hard at the floor, clenching her fingers around the bar of the lift that she's leaning against, and concentrates on what they're saying.

" – Not happy. Not at all," Orion is muttering.

His voice is loud enough to reach the back of the lift, though she seems to be the only one paying attention. The man in front of her is more interested in the files he's holding in his hands, and has begun to shuffle the papers around as he waits for his stop.

"Well, he's been planning this for close to a year now, after all," Abraxas returns in an equally quiet voice.

Orion lets out a low grunt. "The real question is whether she meant for this to happen or not. If I didn't know any better, I'd – "

The man in front of Vivian suddenly drops several of his papers. He releases a muttered curse and bends down to pick them up, drawing the attention of Orion and Abraxas. Vivian, suddenly reeling with the fear of being seen, promptly assists, ducking her head so that a curtain of her hair drops forward to shroud her face. Not that it makes a huge difference, though. After a cursory (and rather disdainful) glance over their shoulders, the two men turn back after exchanging a judgmental look.

"Ah, thank you, my dear," Vivian's unknown savior says when they both straighten up and she hands him several of the papers she'd retrieved. She sends him a thin smile as he turns back around and resumes shuffling them back into order. The sound effectively drowns out the continued conversation being had beyond, which makes her wonder if perhaps 'savior' is too generous a word. Salazar, couldn't the man wait until he leaves the lift to riffle through his files?

" – Regardless, we'll get to the bottom of it, and then everything will be set right," Abraxas murmurs.

Orion hums. "One can only hope. I hate to think what he'll do if he has to change his plans – "

Unfortunately for her, the remainder of Orion's sentence is further drowned out by the cool voice from the intercom, which announces the next floor.

'The Atrium, Lower Courtrooms, Regulation Committee for Hearings, and the Office of Public Welfare.'

The elevator doors open with a jittery flourish. Vivian tentatively peers around her unknowing savior and watches Orion and Abraxas exit the lift. She frowns and turns her eyes forward, down the long corridor that opens into the Atrium. For several brief moments, she does nothing but stand there, clenching down on the metal bar, staring at the back of Orion Black's head. What would Sirius say if he knew that his father is here at the Ministry? The answer comes quickly: he'd say that she ought to get as far away from him as possible. He'd probably also remind her that he'd told her not to wander around, that this is exactly what Mad-Eye had warned her about. The Ministry of Magic is full of her pureblood brethren. Whether power is, so are these men.

Yes, he'd tell her to stay on the lift and return to the floor where the Auror's office is located. He'd tell her to keep to herself. But Orion and Abraxas's conversation just now had sparked something within her. Though they never spoke outright about their meaning, she knows they were talking about Him. For some reason, Voldemort is displeased. Why? Something he's been planning for nearly a year is being foiled, and someone is to blame for it.

She supposes that she probably should stay on the lift and listen to Sirius's predictable warning, but listening to Sirius Black has never been something she's much cared to do in all the years of their schooling. Sure, their relationship is much changed these days, but that doesn't mean she ought to obey everything that leaves his mouth. And besides, she feels an itch rise up within her – a desire to know more of Orion's meaning. A need to understand what is hidden. Oh, it is both blessing and curse for a Slytherin heart, this desire to stay one step ahead. A failsafe and an affliction, and not easily ignored at that.

Just as the elevator doors are beginning to shut, Vivian darts around the large wizard and slips through them, stepping into the dark corridor that Orion and Abraxas are now reaching the end of. The gates of the lift slide shut with a resounding click, and a moment later, she hears it shuttle off to its next stop, leaving her there in the echoing stillness.

She pulls her cloak tighter around her frame to ward off the telltale chill from being underground, and steps forward. After spending so many minutes in the clanging, shuttering lift, the silence in the corridor feels almost oppressing. She is struck with an odd sensation that she has stepped through some sort of invisible barrier, into a world where she is not meant to be. At least, not anymore. To step back into it is jarring. It is like waking up from a dream that agonizes you, only to forget the source of your agony the moment your eyes flutter open.

She reaches the end of the hallway and glances into the Atrium, a round room with a tall ceiling. Several closed doors surround the walls, emptying out into the chamber. Orion and Abraxas are walking towards one even now, the former waving his wand to swing it open. The hems of their cloaks disappear beyond, and Vivian hurries to cross the room and follow. There are several other people lingering here and there within the space, witches and wizards loitering about dressed in long black and maroon robes with silver badges pinned to their chests, but no one pays her any mind as she passes through them, and she doesn't pause to study them either. Her eyes remain trained on the door that Orion and Abraxas have gone through, singularly intent on keeping up with them.

When she slips through it, she finds herself standing in yet another long corridor, but this one is lit with several sconces of magical fire, whose blue flames cast a cold and eerie glow upon the walls. The feeling of otherworldliness presses upon her yet again, and she shuffles closer to the wall, finding solace in a patch of darkness that blends in well with her dark cloak. It feels bizarre, hiding like this in the Ministry of Magic of all places. This is not a pureblood manor with its many hidden doorways and nondescript passages, and yet the mere presence of the two wizards in front of her makes it feel startlingly similar. She is swept through with the sensation that she ought not be here, but she wrangles it down lest it spark her into cowardliness, and silently shuffles forward.

The corridor, she soon realizes, is home to the lower courtrooms. She learns this when she draws near one of the doors and hears the proceedings within, but doesn't linger. These are the public courts, as far as she recalls, and she's allowed to be here just as any other is. The thought quells the thundering of her heart somewhat, but not entirely, especially when she reaches the end of the corridor and peers around the corner. Her heart gives a lurch when she sees Orion and Abraxas standing about halfway down the adjacent hallway, but _they_ aren't the reason for her quickening heartbeat. Head bent together, the two of them seem to have come down here for a reason, and that reason happens to be standing beside them, murmuring to them in a low voice that Vivian has to strain her ears to hear.

He is much the same as he was several months ago. Broad-shouldered, physically imposing, with his dark hair and dark eyes and dark arrogance. It seems to drip from his form, transforming him from a seventh-year Slytherin student to…well, to what? From the looks of it, Adrian Mulciber appears to have gotten a job, but it certainly isn't the sort of job that Vivian would have expected him to pursue. He wears the same black and maroon robes that mark the standard dress of an attorney of some kind. An official looking badge is pinned to the chest of his robes, identical to the ones the other witches and wizards in the Atrium had been wearing.

" – Father suggested me because I know how to handle her," Adrian is saying. He sounds smug, for some reason. Gloating and amused.

Orion snorts. "Are you quite sure you don't have enough to do here? You're a _man of the people,_ now, after all." In contrast, _his_ voice is judgmental and arrogant, drawling with a generous helping of sarcasm, as if he believes his own acerbic description to be ridiculous. Vivian is inclined to agree. A man of the people, indeed.

Abraxas reaches out to clasp Adrian's shoulder. "What Black means, of course, is that you have many allies should you need…assistance." Then, casting Orion a look, he adds, "Besides, we need men in the courts and you well know it, Orion. It's the one place we haven't managed to overtake yet."

Orion Black doesn't appear to care for his colleague's reminder, for he gruffly mutters, "The boy could've gotten a higher position with his father's influence. What use is he now? He doesn't even represent high profile people – "

"Yes, which is why no one looks at me twice," Adrian interrupts with a scoff. He crosses his arms over his black and maroon cloak and drawls, "Our Lord wanted me here. Or do you doubt his plans?"

Vivian frowns, casting another glance at the badge pinned to the chest of his robes. Well, this answers the question of what an ambitious man like Adrian Mulciber is doing in a job with such low visibility. Not that attorneys aren't important, but it's a rare thing to see a son of a prominent pureblood starting at the lowest rung of the ladder. Nepotism runs rampant in pureblood circles, where power is currency and the key to success. Obtaining wealth isn't the goal – her fellow purebloods hardly need to go out of their way chasing money and fame – rather, the desire to rule and manipulate is where true ambition leads them. This is why the thought of Adrian working in the lowest level of the Ministry, representing clients who are hardly worth his time, is so jarring a thought.

"Regardless," Abraxas smoothly cuts in, "we came to inquire into _your_ plans, Adrian. You were given quite a task. How do you intend to accomplish you orders?"

Adrian shrugs the older man off with a dry and overtly disrespectful, "Leave that to me. I know how to deal with blood traitors."

Abraxas eyes him distastefully. "…Your days of bumbling around Hogwarts hexing Mudbloods is at an end. You're in the real world, now, with real consequences."

Adrian's eyes flash with equal distaste. "Like I said, I know what I'm doing," he responds in a clipped tone, clearly not appreciating the insult administered by his elder.

Orion raises his chin and peers down at Adrian through narrowed eyes. "There's no shame in asking for assistance." Then, pausing, he glances at Abraxas and drawls, "But I can see that the _young master_ is eager to prove himself. Come, Abraxas. I believe we've spent enough time in this…dismal place." He eyes the darkened corridors with a curled lip.

Several parting words are exchanged, but Vivian doesn't linger where she stands at the corner. If she's seen by either one of them in this quiet corridor, there's no telling what might happen to her. Though this is the Ministry of Magic, the halls are, at the moment, empty, and she knows better than to stick around in a place where there are no witnesses. She turns and hurries down the corridor from which she came, her palms clammy and her heartbeat still jolting unnaturally in her chest. She feels cold and drawn even as she reenters the Atrium. The gleaming silver badges that are proudly pinned to the robes of the witches and wizards still making their way through the space seem soiled, somehow, after she had seen the very same badge on Adrian Mulciber's chest.

So _that's_ what he's been up to. In truth, she hasn't given him much thought since graduating Hogwarts. Why would she, when she's been too focused on discovering herself in her new life? She's made a marked effort to remove herself from the pureblood circles, and to not follow the news with too much proximity lest she be swept back into those circles. Yet now, as she bustles across the Atrium, hoping to reach the lift before Orion or Abraxas see her, it feels strange how welcoming the familiarity of her old life is. How a part of her, however small, yearns for more of that familiarity, if only because she knows how to navigate it with far more prowess than her current life.

Her mind is spinning with too many thoughts when she enters the lift. A quick glance beyond the doors of it tell her that the two purebloods are nowhere to be seen, but it is only a small comfort. How does she piece together everything she had heard? Who is the blood traitor that Adrian seems to have been tasked to locate, and what purpose does Voldemort have in finding this person? Does it have something to do with what Orion and Abraxas were murmuring about before, on the lift? She's sure that it does. In fact, she's positive of it.

Her fifteen minutes have long expired, and Sirius will no doubt be looking for her, annoyed that she hadn't taken his words to heart. She can't bring herself to feel bad about it, though. She's far too busy mulling over what she had heard to give much of a thought to Sirius's potential frustration. She's sure that she had overheard something important, something that will be of help to the Order, yet she feels a quiet sort of unease pressing into her as she contemplates it.

For, though she has no concrete evidence to give the theory any weight, Vivian has a strange and foreboding feeling that Adrian was talking about her.


	6. Mars gravior sub pace latet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you're all too good to me :) Hope you all enjoy and see you next Sunday

**Chapter Six | Mars gravior sub pace latet**

**[A harsher war lies hidden under peace]**

"I told you to stay in the lobby," Sirius had angrily told her when he'd found her again, near the floo grates that line the lower halls of the Ministry. They had been emptied of people but for one or two coming and going, the room strangely silent as compared to the bustle when they had first arrived.

"And I've told you a hundred times not to order me around," had been Vivian's clipped response. The silence had transferred to her words, too, or rather her lack of them. She had known better than to tell Sirius in that moment that she'd run into his father. The knowledge would only justify him, make him think that he is right and that she ought to have listened and obeyed, like some doll left alone on a windowsill without a mind of her own, to be talked to but to never talk back. But she has renounced that life. She's made a conscious effort to distance herself from that sort of grooming. She is her own person, now. She has to be.

It's strange, to look back upon your life and to see things for how they really are. Instances that you had swept beneath the rug, before, because you thought they were normal. Like sitting around a breakfast table and listening to one of her father's lectures about the importance of their family name, the power it holds within society, the purity that gives it that power. Like being in a room of other powerful people and thinking that the way they were interacting – the barely contained insults, the quietly pretentious power plays – was completely normal. Like watching her own father lift a hand against her most precious possessions and burn them to a crisp in the center of her bedroom, all because she had done something wrong and she had forced his hand. These things that had not always been pleasant were just another aspect of her life. They weren't things to question or argue. They were merely the way things were, and that was that.

But distance shakes the foundations that had once been so strong. Hindsight turns her eyes to look at them in a different light. Experience extends a newfound truth that hadn't been there before, in all of those moments that had once seemed so normal. For though it hasn't been very long since Vivian had walked away from those things, this cottage and the man she now lives with have opened her eyes to what life and happiness ought to look like. And she knows, now, that happiness is found in the simple things, the unassuming things, the things that most people overlook because at first glance, they are too meek and too passive to be recognized.

There is a power in those things, though, even stronger than the last, only it isn't the same kind of power. Rather, it's the sort of power that comes to you unplanned and unprepared, and only because you aren't looking for it. It's like standing on a hilltop and looking down into a valley, seeing the shimmering mist that hangs just so above each blade of grass and sparkling with early morning dew. And, quite suddenly, a gust of wind catches you unawares and sweeps against you like a mounting wave, and you feel as if some inner part of you has shifted, and you are not exactly the same as you had been a second before. You're forced to close your eyes and tilt your head back because a portion of your soul commands it of you and requires fealty to this gust of wind. And when you open your eyes it's as if you're looking at a new world that you have never seen before, until your eyes adjust once more and you begin to recognize where you are and why you are here. And, unfortunately, the moment you recall these things is the moment the wind dies down and you return to being you, an earthly creature made of skin and blood. Your soul pulls back into your body and you feel the sting of your own flawed humanity. You forget what it had felt like a moment ago, when that humanity seemed to have transcended the limitations of flesh and sinew. That's often the way of it. It's the unimportant things that we always remember. The things that don't really matter.

Like the look Sirius had given her, then, when she had failed to respond to him in the way he had been expecting. When she had decided to retain her silence instead of telling him exactly what she had overheard.

It is a strange thing, handing your burdens over to someone else. Allowing that person to take a share of responsibility for your own welfare. As we grow, pride tempers our nature. We frown upon the dependency we had as children. Vivian's silence could be the result of pride, of which she has in droves, but if she is being honest with herself, it's more a result of caution. Ought she tell Sirius everything she had heard without first confirming it? After all, there could be other explanations. Perhaps the blood traitor Adrian had mentioned is someone else entirely. Maybe she had jumped to conclusions.

On the hilltop, the wind in the valley pulls at her, and Vivian lifts her eyes from the book in her lap so as to take in the sight before her. A frown turns down the edge of her mouth. Her fingers tap against the pages that the wind threatens to turn.

She does not know it – how could she? – but her silence is the beginning of an unmarked grave. If we knew just how temperamental our decisions were, just how much a simple choice could change the course of the future, our lives would be utterly fixated upon what consequences our actions will bring to fruition. If we knew how easy it is, to make the same hard decision twice, and again and again, then we would take it to heart the first time all the more. Conversely, if Vivian Blair knew what consequences her silence would bring, she'd surely get up and march back to the cottage in this very instant to rectify them before her mistakes might manifest. But she doesn't know. She doesn't see the patterns that she is beginning to create. The course that she is beginning to turn to. Even when the wind gusts through her and her soul commands her to close her eyes and allow it to overmaster her, she does not see.

She is, after all, only human. Only flesh.

"You know, I'm not sure how I feel about Tosspot Clarke writing you letters," Sirius's voice suddenly drawls, and she jumps in surprise.

At once, the dissident wind seems to fade, and Vivian opens her eyes to see him leaning against the trunk of the tree she had claimed as her own some months prior. It isn't quite the same as the great oak she had sat beneath at the Blair manor, overlooking the fields and forests of her family's estate. This tree is far humbler, less great and less wise, but it will have to do.

"Salazar," Vivian complains, and closes the book she hadn't really been reading. She sends Sirius a look. "Are you _trying_ to sneak up on me?"

Sirius raises an eyebrow at her. "No, but it is nice to know that it's possible to catch a Slytherin unawares every once in a while," he responds, but his voice isn't quite as light as it normally would be, and she knows why. He's still frustrated that she had ignored his warnings and had wandered around the Ministry by herself. More than that, he's probably annoyed at the way she had been entirely unremorseful about it. She isn't the only one with pride in droves.

Instead of remarking on his lingering annoyance, Vivian turns her attention to the letter he's holding in his hand and asks, "Clarke wrote me?"

Sirius's eyebrow raises a little bit higher at the eagerness of her question. He scoffs, "Why're you so happy about it? It's just Tosspot Clarke."

She rolls her eyes at him. "Just give it to me."

He eyes her. "Come and take it, if you want it so badly."

Vivian's eyeroll transforms into a glower. "Are you really that childish?"

He smirks and counters, "Are you really that _surprised?"_

She has half a mind to dredge up one of her past insults from days gone by (several options immediately filter through her thoughts), but instead, Vivian stands up and takes a step towards him. Oh, she should know better than to play into his game, but to be frank, she doesn't care all that much at the moment. Since their trip to the Ministry several days ago, there's been an edge between them, and she's growing tired of it. Sirius watches her progress closely, still leaning nonchalantly against the tree as she lessens the space between them. He seems vaguely amused that she's actually approaching him. Her usual reaction would be to put an end to his antics before they can truly begin.

"I know you can't possibly be _jealous_ of Gavin Clarke," Vivian murmurs as she shuffles forward, eyeing him just as closely as he's eyeing her. "He's all the way up in Norway, after all."

Sirius snorts. "You're right. I have absolutely no reason to be jealous of _Clarke_. For one, I'm way better looking them him."

She places a hand on the trunk of the tree near his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. "And…?"

He grins. "And I got the girl, obviously."

His response nearly makes her roll her eyes again. Only by the grace of self-control does she refrain. That, and the fact that he seems to have let his guard down just so, just enough for her to reach out to grab –

"Ah-ah-ah, nice try Godric," Sirius barks out a laugh, holding the letter over his head as he steps back, away from the tree.

Eyes narrowed now, Vivian follows him back and drawls, "I don't think Gavin was ever trying to _get_ me, as you so eloquently phrased it." Then, watching his backward steps carefully, she adds, "He had plenty of opportunities to, though, if he wanted."

This seemingly lazy addition makes Sirius pause, as she had expected. Gryffindors. Honestly.

"…What does _that_ mean?" Sirius demands, also as expected.

Vivian smirks. "Don't worry, Sirius," she murmurs, shuffling forward again, "he doesn't kiss half as well as you do."

The way Sirius's mouth drops is truly a wondrous thing to behold…as is the ease in which Vivian's hand darts out to claim her letter, taking full advantage of his shock.

The moment she pulls it free from his grasp, Sirius's mouth snaps shut and he splutters, "That – you – that was entirely unfair."

She only sends him a proper Slytherin smirk and breaks the seal of Gavin's letter, shrugging, "You're the one who asked."

He narrows his eyes at her and stalks forward. The action is enough to make Vivian pause and step back, this time. She eyes him for several moments until she realizes that he doesn't mean to stop, and that's about the time that she hastens into a retreat that quickly summons a laughing shriek when she feels his arms lock around her waist.

"Sirius!" she complains even through her laughter. "Let go you mutt – "

"Mutt?!" comes his incredulous, albeit laughing, reply. He pulls her to the grass with a grin and rolls on top of her, much to her protest. Though, to be honest, she doesn't really mind all that much, especially when Sirius's lips brush against her cheek as he murmurs, "First you get all excited about Clarke writing you a letter, and now you call me a mutt…what should I do about this terrible injustice, I wonder…?"

Vivian turns her face to his and twists her fingers into his hair with a low, "I suppose you could do anything you wanted."

His eyes meet hers. She presses back a shiver when she sees the emotion lingering therein. A large part of her would like nothing more than to drag him down to kiss her, but instead…

"…But only after I read my letter," she drawls, and then before he's entirely prepared for it, Vivian is planting a hand on his chest and shoving him off of her.

"Oi!" Sirius exclaims. He catches himself and rises onto his elbow, sending her a glower. "That was entirely uncalled for – "

"Dear Vivian," she interrupts, "Norway has been treating me very well. I'm sure you'd be very interested to hear what courses I'll be taking this semester, so I posted you my syllabus with a list of some reading materials I think you'd find very fascinating, as they have to do with your appreciation for experimental charms. One of my classes is centered entirely on Norwegian magical applications and the methods therein. I've already read the book from cover to cover, it was so engaging – it's on the list and I urge you to look into it, I'm sure you'd find it very illuminating – "

"Merlin, does he ever take a break from being a nerd?" Sirius mutters, rolling his eyes as he watches her read the letter.

Vivian sends him a look and keeps reading, "Of course, I've already gotten a head start on most of my classes despite the fact that the semester doesn't begin for another week, but it is after all important to keep on top of everything. Anyway, you'd love it here, Vivian. The campus is located in a remote mountain (though don't ask me to pronounce it, I've only just begun learning the language but I'm determined to reach at least a conversational level), and it's absolutely beautiful. I dare say it's even more stunning than Hogwarts – "

"Blasphemy," Sirius interrupts again, and reaches out to spin a strand of Vivian's hair around his fingers in an idle manner.

"Shut up, Sirius," she responds, just as idly. He snorts.

"Oh, forgive me for not being all that invested in listening to Clarke going on about his obsession for homework," he mutters.

Vivian sighs and puts the letter down, holding it against her stomach as she turns her head to the side to look at him. "If you don't want to listen, then go back to the cottage," she challenges.

The frown he sends her then is a little too similar to a pout for her to take very seriously.

"Not a chance," he sniffs, "especially after that remark about that Tosspot making moves on you…I always knew there was something shifty about him…"

Vivian laughs and, holding the letter back up as she lays on the grass, she dryly says, "For your information, _I_ was the one who kissed _him._ He wasn't very happy about it."

This makes Sirius pause again. She snorts out another laugh and sends him a raised brow.

"What, are you surprised?" she asks, amused. She does like taking him off guard.

Sirius opens his mouth several times before settling with a disbelieving, "…I'm having a bit of trouble wrapping my head around that, actually."

Vivian puts the letter down again and raises herself onto her elbow so that she's matching his position. With a smug smile, she purrs, "You _are_ jealous. Admit it."

He narrows his eyes at her. "Jealous of that nerd? Never."

With a hum, she drawls, "Well, I guess you _did_ get the girl, after all." Her voice is just barely dry enough to reveal her sarcasm.

So is his, when he dryly responds, "Yeah, the girl who enjoys throwing herself into danger by wandering around the Ministry of Magic when she knows full well that it's full of purebloods who are looking for her."

With a sigh, she mutters, "Are you really still upset about that?"

The playful atmosphere that they had cultivated drops away. Sirius frowns at her and lowers himself onto his back to glower up at the sky. Vivian sighs again, watching him.

"Sirius," she starts, but doesn't get to finish.

"Why wouldn't I still be upset about it?" he grumbles. "They're _looking_ for you, Viv. You disobeyed Voldemort by running off with me. I have a responsibility to keep you safe – "

"No, _I_ have a responsibility to keep myself safe," she interrupts.

He sends her a look. "I know you can look after yourself. That doesn't change the fact that I want to make sure you're safe, and I can't very well do that if I don't know where you are."

She purses her mouth at him. "What happened to being a reckless Gryffindor who chases after danger?"

"…I just don't want anything to happen to you," he mutters after a brief silence. Then, after a moment, he sighs and reaches for her hand, entwining his fingers with hers as he adds, "We're a team, right?"

The question makes her raise an eyebrow, but not because she thinks his words are idiotic. Rather, she had never really thought about their relationship like that before. Maybe it's silly, or maybe it's simply because she's so accustomed to living a solitary life that the notion eludes her somehow, even though they've been together for some months now. It's a strange thought is all, to depend on someone. To hand over your burdens.

She settles into the grass beside him and grasps his fingers tighter. "Of course we are," she murmurs, catching his eye. "But you can't look after me every second of the day, especially when you're off on Order missions."

The last sentence is bathed with just the slightest hint of bitterness, shrouded just so but still audible.

"…They're just a bit wary of you," Sirius says, correctly guessing the reason for said bitterness. He brushes a thumb over her hand and sighs, "Moody will warm up to you soon enough, trust me."

Vivian only hums in response. In truth, she isn't entirely sure she believes him, but then again, perhaps he's right. Only time will tell. She's sure she could be of great assistance to the Order if they'd only let her, with her knowledge of pureblood society and those therein. Dumbledore will see that in time.

"It's just a bit aggravating is all," she grudgingly admits, resting her temple against her palm as she hovers at his side.

Sirius hums and murmurs, "I know. But everything will work out."

Everything _would_ work out, only not quite in the way they're expecting. After all, such is the intricacy of Fate when it barrels into your path. Such is the nature of its bends and its arcs, its corners and its angles; the edges of time that scrape against the clock of your own making and bypass the seconds that you have left, the moments wedged between thought and actions, between days and years…

Sirius sends her a quiet grin and reaches up to tug at her hair and tempt her down.

"Come here," he murmurs. She feels her mouth curve into an amused smile.

Yes, such is Fate: a momentary mystery.

And, though Vivian doesn't much like listening to Sirius Black, well, this is one command that she will obey. She leans down, and kisses him, and though she does not know it, Fate whispers at her in the background even then as Sirius pulls her closer and kisses her back. And its path which had begun to bend, before, as Vivian had sat beneath the tree and thought about whether she ought to tell Sirius about what she had overheard…it creases now, as silence is retained.

* * *

The streets of Diagon Alley are the busiest they've been in months, but this isn't saying much. Besides Vivian herself, there is only a handful of other shoppers in sight, mostly parents rushing to purchase their children's school supplies as quickly as possible. As for the children themselves, they seem to be universally absent from their usual Diagon Alley school trips this year, more so than the last. As Vivian walks down the street towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, she sees more 'Closed' signs than she is expecting, as well as 'Available for Rent' signs posted in the windows of several flat complexes. With the current state of things, she doubts those landlords will have very many applicants. Diagon Alley is the hub of the wizarding community in London, and therefore it attracts the most attention from those wizards who wish to do it harm. It doesn't help that Knockturn Alley is only a stone's throw away. Any connection to the Dark Arts, in whatever form, has people running, and who can blame them? Even she didn't want to return here today.

Well, actually, the reason Vivian hadn't been entirely looking forward to this trip isn't to do with coming out in the open, but rather because –

"Vivian, there you are! You're fifteen minutes late!" Lily scolds as Vivian approaches the ice cream shop. The redhead stands up from one of the tables she's occupying outside and proceeds to shove a half-melted dish of ice cream into Vivian's hands.

Vivian looks down at it with a baleful eye and then shoves it back. "I don't like ice cream," she deadpans, much to Lily's exasperation.

With a quirked eyebrow, Lily demands, "Well then why did you want to meet at the _ice cream parlour?"_

Vivian raises an eyebrow, too. "Because it's close to the Leaky Cauldron and Madam Malkins," is her reply, which contains a healthy drawl of sarcasm.

A voice behind Lily snorts and, with equal sarcasm, says, "This is going to be a _wonderful_ afternoon."

Vivian sends a glower at the person who is still sitting at the table, but before she can come up with an adequately snappish reply, Lily huffs, "We are here to have _fun,_ Marlene. Don't be flippant." Then, after a moment of hesitation, Lily shoves the half-melted ice cream into Marlene's hands next, and this time she doesn't accept it when Marlene tries to shove it back.

Vivian rolls her eyes. "Just leave it and let's get this over with," she grouses, looking entirely unenthusiastic. Lily doesn't appear to appreciate it. Marlene, however, does, and is quick to stand up and begin walking down the street. Lily lets out another exasperated sigh before following. Vivian waits several seconds before doing the same, tailing along behind the other two with the same unenthusiastic expression etched over her face.

Merlin, why did she agree to this? Marlene McKinnon doesn't like her overmuch and never has. When Lily had suggested the outing, she should have vetoed it immediately. As if she wants to spend the afternoon with one of Sirius's ex-trollops. Unfortunately, Potter had overheard Lily's suggestion and had practically strong-armed Vivian into accepting on the basis that he wouldn't let her hurt his Lilyflower's feelings by rejecting her. Naturally, Vivian had told him to stop embarrassing himself with his constant attempts at getting involved in every aspect of Lily's life (yeah, they're technically dating or whatever, but space is important). Anyway, the stupid Gryffindor had responded to that by dragging Sirius into it, who had stumbled his way into a confused monologue about how he and 'the boys' were planning another mission on the proposed day anyhow, and besides, he doesn't care what Vivian does in her spare time. His confused monologue had turned into a cringe at the look Vivian had sent him then, but Potter had, essentially, gotten what he was after. One can always count on your bumbling friends to assist you in such matters.

"Great, so since Padfoot doesn't give two shits about what you do, Pride, I see no reason why you should refuse my Lilyflower," Potter had proclaimed, smiling that aggravatingly knowing smile that tends to make Vivian think thoughts of murder. Alas, though, murder will have to wait until after she gets through the afternoon.

It isn't as if Vivian has never been out shopping with her friends before, but there is a very stark difference between what she is accustomed to and what she experiences today. For one, Lily and Marlene are frustratingly polite about pretty much everything (with some exceptions, mainly concerning the cautious looks Marlene keeps sending Vivian). They smile happily at the shop clerks and fawn over dress robes as if they're life depends upon it. It's frankly jarring and it makes Vivian miss her Hogsmeade trips with Morrigan, Narcissa, and Rosalind. Now _those_ were fun. As if watching Narcissa and Rosalind argue back and forth about everything under the sun wasn't rewarding enough, Morrigan's constant and very creative threats to make them shut up were wonderfully amusing. She can still recall the time Morrigan warned them that she'd hex their bedsheets into strangling them if they didn't stop quarreling about the merits of long dress robes vs. short dress robes. It didn't _really_ work, of course – nothing can truly stop Narcissa and Rosalind once they get started – but it did successfully shut them up for a good five minutes.

By contrast, these two are…well. _Gryffindors_.

Vivian eyes them with a generous helping of disdain as Marlene gushes over a bright blue set of dress robes with a strange fringe on the sleeves. She's saying something about how fringe is trending right now, but Vivian doesn't contribute to the conversation and instead turns to a rack of pricier robes in nice, muted colors. They're much more respectable, and thankfully have no trace of fringe anywhere in sight.

"If you want my opinion, you and James have been moving pretty fast," she hears Marlene say. "I'll bet he's already picked out an engagement ring."

At this, Vivian can't contain her snort. "That idiot has been drooling over you since third year, Evans. He probably bought you a ring back when you were still pretending to hate him."

Marlene shoots her a derisive look, probably for commandeering the conversation. Lily merely huffs and looks as if she's about to argue this possibility…until she mutters, "Yeah, that's probably true."

Vivian smirks. "Of course it is. Potter is nothing if not a stubborn prat."

With the ugly fringe robes now hanging off her arm, Marlene raises an eyebrow at Vivian and drawls, "Aren't you supposed to be friends with James these days? You _are_ dating his best friend, after all."

There's just the smallest hint of judgement wedged into Marlene's voice when she asks this, which naturally makes Vivian pause and shoot her a careful look. Lily pauses too, looking just as careful when she slowly says, "Marl, you aren't…uh, upset that Sirius and Vivian are a thing, are you? I mean, I thought you got over him after he cheated on you the third time around back in sixth year."

Vivian's eyebrow twitches. She resists the urge to roll her eyes at the reminder of Sirius's track record. As for Marlene…

With a scoff, she says, "Please. There're no hard feelings in that regard, Blair. You can have that slut."

The adamant way she says this, with so much sarcasm she can't hope to hide it, makes Vivian snort out a laugh. A moment later, she's grinning over at Marlene, who, oddly enough, is grinning right back. Lily looks incredibly bewildered.

"I think I will have him, thanks," Vivian responds, and then goes back to flipping through the rack, looking entirely nonplussed.

As Marlene heads over to the dressing room to try the blue robes on, Lily eyes the pair of them, looking all the more confused.

"…What just happened?" she asks.

Vivian shakes her head at her and merely says, "Just hurry up and buy something, Evans. Potter will find a way to blame me if you come back empty handed."

Lily sighs, but seems to decide not to pursue the topic and just turns to look at a display of hats. Unfortunately, though, the topic of Sirius's sluttiness is not finished being debated. Or, to be more specific, the topic of Sirius's sluttiness concerning Vivian is only just beginning.

"You don't look tired or anything," Marlene notes as the three of them (finally, thank Merlin) leave Madam Malkins about an hour later. For reasons that Vivian can't fathom, Marlene had decided to buy those cringe-worthy blue fringe robes, and is now swinging the bag back and forth as they start walking down the street to the Leaky Cauldron. It's around four o'clock in the afternoon now, and though the summer sun is still shining brightly down on them, they aren't planning on staying in Diagon Alley for much longer. After a quick bite to eat, they'll part ways. Best not to get stuck outside after the shops close up for the day.

Vivian glances over at Marlene with a weird expression and says, "Why would I look tired?"

She quickly regrets asking.

"I'm just saying that Sirius can be pretty…insatiable," Marlene slyly responds. She smirks at the way Vivian's expression morphs into one of dread and murmurs, "He doesn't tire very quickly, you know?"

Lily makes a disgusted face and complains, "Really, Marl? Can we _not_ talk about that?"

Vivian is in full agreement. She's beginning to realize that Marlene is a little too similar to Morrigan than she'd initially thought, and has decided that she doesn't miss her Slytherin friends all that much after all.

"What?" Marlene innocently wonders. "I'm just asking Vivian if she's enjoying the various aspects of living with Sirius Black is all. Does he still flex when he gets out of the shower?"

Thankfully, before Vivian can formulate a response to this, Lily demands, "When have _you_ ever seen him get out of the shower?" Then, with a gasp, she turns to face Marlene and exclaims, "I _knew_ you were hiding a man in the bathroom that morning in seventh year! You liar!"

Marlene laughs, then, upon seeing Vivian's expression, coughs, "It was right after school started, Blair. Don't jump to conclusions."

Vivian resists the urge to curl her lip and mutters, "…I wasn't." It doesn't appear as though either of the girls believe her.

"Marlene and Sirius have a weird relationship. That's all in the past now, though," Lily hastily says.

"Yeah, it was really just a fling anyway," Marlene adds.

"Several flings," Lily corrects.

" _Anyway,"_ Marlene says, shooting Lily a look, "I always knew that Sirius wasn't the sort to settle down, so it's not a huge loss. Er – I mean, he's changed his tune now I guess – "

"Bloody hell, Marlene, just stop talking," Lily sighs.

Marlene does stop talking. Until of course they slide into an empty table at the Leaky Cauldron after ordering a few appetizers.

"So anyway, how is it?" she asks, much to Vivian's exasperation. And embarrassment.

"…How is what?" Vivian asks, turning to glance out the window so as to ignore Marlene's expectant expression. Salazar.

"Don't avoid the question, Blair. I'm really curious."

"It's none of your business and I don't give a shite if you're curious."

"You _have_ _done it,_ haven't you?" Marlene demands.

Vivian sends her a scathing glare that successfully quiets her…for several seconds at least.

"You don't have to look so annoyed," Marlene mutters with a pout. "I can give you some tips, if you'd like."

Lily shakes her head silently and sighs. Vivian grits her teeth.

"Would you stop asking about my sex life? Like I said, I don't care if you're curious – "

"He likes being surprised, you know? Catch him when he's least expecting it and he'll go crazy," Marlene helpfully interrupts, not looking at all afraid of Vivian's dark glare. "Oh, and if you wear something lacy, he'll be eating out of your hand in no time."

Vivian looks like she might throttle Marlene at any moment, so Lily reluctantly says, "I think we should probably talk about something that _doesn't_ make Vivian want to hex you, Marlene."

Marlene opens her mouth to argue this, but after a glance at Vivian's expression, she grudgingly agrees, "…Yeah, okay. Jeez, Blair, I was only trying to be helpful. I mean, what did you expect on a girl's day out? You're obviously going to be interrogated about your love life."

Vivian rolls her eyes and mutters, "I knew I should have told Potter to shove off when he wrangled me into this." She's about to say something more when she happens to glance out the window again, but this time, her words get lodged in her throat. The reason for this is because, well, she could have sworn she saw…but no, why would he be here? She must be imagining it. With a scoff, Vivian turns back to the table and says, "Why don't you interrogate Lily, then? You haven't asked _her_ about _Potter."_

Marlene tilts her head and muses, "That's true. Lily, spill."

As Lily sighs once more and tells Marlene to stop being so gossipy, Vivian turns back to the window. The street is empty. Several shops are already starting to close up. She watches one of the shopkeepers bringing several things inside with an idle expression, deciding that she really must have been imagining it after all.

After their food is ready, Marlene seems more intent on eating and thankfully doesn't ask any more questions, which Vivian is grateful for. Talking about that aspect of her life feels strange, especially since Marlene obviously expects that her and Sirius have taken their relationship to that level already. The truth is that Vivian isn't really sure how to go about initiating such things. She's never really given it much thought, until recently. Sirius is still grudgingly sleeping on the spare mattress for Merlin's sake, but there's absolutely no way she's going to admit that to Marlene, of all people. It isn't that she doesn't want to be with Sirius in that way…it's only that living with him is still so new and she's only just started to think of the cottage as home. Maybe she's being too cautious, though. After all, Sirius has made it clear that it's on her to make the first move. He's said several times, in the first few weeks, that he wants her to be comfortable.

Her mind drifts continuously back to these thoughts even as they are heading out of the Leaky Cauldron and saying their goodbyes, but once Marlene and Lily have apparated away, her thoughts take a rather sudden turn. This is mainly due to the fact that, right when she's about to turn on her heel to apparate as well, a hand reaches out to grasp her wrist. Vivian instead turns in the other direction to see who has stopped her, opening her mouth to tell them to get lost. When her eyes lock onto iron grey, though, the words she had been about to summon fall abruptly away.

"…Regulus?" she asks.

Regulus Black purses his mouth, but all he says is a short, "Vivian. I need to talk to you." Then, without giving her any time to so much as ask what he's doing here, he tightens his grip on her wrist and drags her down the street.


	7. Fac ut sciam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know these last few chapters have been a bit rocky despite my hiatus/all the ideas I now have for the plot. I hope you all bear with me while I begin to incorporate said ideas. It will probably take a few more chapters before things get smoother. I'm still rewriting my outline, so these last few chapters have been a bit off the cuff!
> 
> The song in this chapter is Happiness is a Warm Gun by The Beatles if anyone is interested. Hope you all enjoy :)

**Chapter Seven | Fac ut sciam**

**[Make me aware]**

As Regulus drags her into a small alley between a small teashop and the used broomstick store, the first thing that crosses her mind is that Regulus's fingers are as cold as ice. The second, as he comes to a complete stop and turns around to face her, is that he looks strangely frantic in a way she's never seen before. His usual calm, collected demeanor seems irretrievably lost, and as he scans her face, she finds herself shuffling back. Her fingers tighten around the wand in her pocket, which she had reached for the moment Regulus had grabbed her wrist to stop her from apparating. Distrust unfurls within her, almost surprising in its strength.

The last time she had spoken to him had been in the Slytherin common room before she had graduated with the rest of her class. They had sat together in front of the emerald fire and he had said –

" _I wish things had gone differently…"_

At the time, she had agreed with him. After all, she knew in her heart that Regulus Black had good inside him. She could see it in his dealings with her, in his quiet words and scarce smiles. It had a way of softening the grey of his eyes just so, turning the iron back to silver. But that was before. They belong to two different worlds now, and the chasm between them is even more unbroachable than ever before.

"Well?" Vivian demands, eyeing him distrustfully. "What do you want – and how did you know I was in Diagon Alley today?" That last question is a hasty addition that rolls off her tongue before she can think it through entirely, but she's glad to have asked it. After all, the only way he would have known that she was here is if he was following her, which is not a pleasant thing to consider for a variety of reasons. If it's this easy to locate her, she can't help but wonder how she's managed to stay under the radar at all for the last few weeks.

Regulus purses his mouth and doesn't meet her eye. He looks uncomfortable, though whether this is because of her disgruntled tone or because of her final question, she doesn't know. Perhaps it's because they haven't seen each other since that final feast at Hogwarts, when they had briefly caught each other's eyes from across the Great Hall before Vivian had turned away. Perhaps it's only because of the fact that Vivian is clutching onto her wand as if she's seconds away from drawing it forth and hexing him. The distrust in her expression is palpable and foreign. He's seen it there before, of course, but never directed at him with quite so much vengeance.

"There's been a development," he says after a painful beat of silence. "And I had Kreacher find you for me."

That last part is hastily added too, as if he's trying to justify his efforts. It doesn't make her feel any better though.

Vivian stares at him. She studies the familiar lines of his face for several long moments before scoffing, "Okay. Let's ignore for a minute that you sent your creepy house-elf after me and get to the reason why you needed to talk to me. What do you want, Regulus?"

Finally, at the sound of his name, he lifts his eyes to hers, and for a split second it feels as though they are back in the Slytherin common room after classes, sitting together by the fireplace as they tackle their respective homework. She'd like to think that the world was as it ought to have been, back then, but she knows that isn't true. So many things were out of order, swept beneath the oppressive curtain that she was trying to hold back for as long as she could. Her attempts had been unsuccessful until she'd caved and stopped trying to hold back that darkness by herself. It hadn't been _Regulus_ who had helped her, though, nor indeed who she had turned to for that assistance.

The energy between them changes just so, becoming inexplicably tenser and more urgent. He takes a step towards her and says, "The Dark Lord is furious. He's been lauding your spell since you finished it, but – Vivian, there's something wrong with it. The power sort of…fades after a while. The Inferi become weaker…it's like your spell wears off and they become common Inferi again."

This is about Vivicendium, the spell she had been tasked to create during her seventh year at Hogwarts? Her father had been the reason for the Dark Lord's sudden interest in her. The moment he had heard that she has a penchant for inventing spells, Voldemort had wanted her to create a specific one for him. Vivicendium doesn't merely raise an Inferi; it makes them more powerful. It gives them an advanced willpower, in a way. They are still bound to whatever their master commands of them, but they have more finesse to carry out those orders. In all honesty, Vivian suspects that the Dark Lord hadn't actually expected her to succeed in her task. She wonders how surprised he had been when he learned that she had, or if he even feels something as human as surprise. That her spell seems to have some errors is _not_ surprising, really, but somehow she can imagine Voldemort's fury far more clearly than his happiness at her creation. As for her, the thought of Vivicendium's apparent failings brings more relief than anything else.

Vivian furrows her brow and cuts in with an abrupt, "That's good news, then. It means he can't use my spell after all."

Regulus releases a scoffing laugh and mutters, "Good news? Vivian, he's _looking_ for you. He wants you to fix it."

Perhaps it's because she's still taken aback at seeing him again, but Vivian's response to this is to simply stare at Regulus as if his words aren't fully registering. They are, of course, but it doesn't stop Regulus from incredulously repeating, "Did you hear me? _The Dark Lord_ is looking for you."

She impatiently snaps, "Yes, I heard you the first time, Regulus. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to do about it or why you've decided to risk yourself by warning me."

At this, Regulus pauses, staring at her. Then, in an almost embittered voice, he responds, "…You know why I took the risk and don't pretend like you don't, Vivian. Look, he's sending someone after you. I don't know who, but – "

"It's Adrian," she interrupts, sounding almost nonchalant about her awareness, which comes down upon her with a sudden clarity. Who else could it be? The conversation she had overheard in the Ministry of Magic makes sense, now. She hadn't been jumping to conclusions after all. The realization doesn't bring the same sort of panic that she feels it ought to, but maybe that's because she's still processing it all, and still coming to terms with the fact that Regulus is even here at all.

He blinks at her in confusion and frowns, "How do you know that?"

It's her turn to pause, before blurting out, "I saw him at the Ministry, talking to your father." And at once, the very moment that these words leave her lips, she is overcome with a sense of guilt, that it had been so simple to tell Regulus and not the one who she should have told the second it had happened. Her eyes fall to the ground, and she purses her lips.

Is it because Regulus is Slytherin through and through? Is it because she trusts those qualities more than she does the brash boldness of a Gryffindor? No, it must simply be because she knows that Regulus is and always has been more aware of the goings on in the darker side of society, and he understands in a way that Sirius doesn't. Or is that just an excuse? Because, after all, Sirius grew up in that society too. He knows full well how it operates. He would also understand, and shouldn't she know this by now? It feels as if she is constantly running through hoops, these days, wrangling with living a life that is so far removed from everything she is accustomed to, and she's been keeping everything at arm's length as a result. She's been keeping Sirius at arm's length, too. Why? If she is so happy to remove herself from that life, shouldn't she be embracing this one fully?

"My father isn't a Death Eater," Regulus frowns, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand. "What was he doing, getting involved?"

Vivian shrugs, still thinking thoughts better left for later, and mutters, "I don't know. He was with Abraxas Malfoy. Did you know that Adrian is working in the Department of Law?"

The question is delivered with a sort of laughable incredulity, but Regulus is far more serious when he replies, "The Dark Lord placed him there. He wants to start infiltrating the courts." Then, with a grumble, he adds, "I shouldn't be telling you this, but knowing you, you've already guessed."

Vivian snorts, "Yeah, I heard Adrian say it himself like the idiot he is. I just don't understand why he was chosen. And how will he have time tracking me down if he's got cases to work on?"

Regulus snaps his eyes to hers and firmly says, "Don't underestimate the danger you're in, Vivian."

She resists the urge to roll her eyes at him. "I'm not underestimating anything, Regulus, I'm just trying to make sense of it all. I mean, Voldemort can still make Inferi without my spell. What's the point of getting me to fix it when he can just wave his wand and raise up as many dead wizards as he likes?"

Her sarcasm isn't lost on him, but it _is_ ignored. Regulus purses his mouth at her. "It's not just about the spell. It's about the fact that you were able to make the spell at all. He wants to have someone with your abilities in his ranks. Your talents are valuable to him."

Mention of the Dark Lord's ranks has Vivian eyeing him with a newfound caution. In a slow voice, she asks the question she should have asked at the start of this wayward conversation. After all, Regulus has just finished his sixth year at Hogwarts. He's too young to join the Death Eaters despite his desire to. This information seems rather important and it hardly makes sense for him to be in the know about it, especially since he appeared confused as to his own father's involvement. That rules out the possibility of him overhearing a conversation being had by Orion, which naturally makes her wonder how he came upon this knowledge.

"How do you know all of this, Regulus? Surely Voldemort doesn't trust you enough to let you attend his meetings."

As expected, the question makes him freeze for half a second before he shakes it off and carefully blankets his expression once more. That half second is enough to make it clear that her inquiry had taken him off guard, though. She can read him well enough by now to see through the mask he's now wearing.

"…Things have changed for me, too," is all he says, and he doesn't deign to explain this very obscure statement.

Vivian lifts an eyebrow and studies him closer, for the first time since she found herself in this alleyway. He looks unhealthy, almost, but it's hard to tell if she's mistaken or not. The light that streams into the alley is filtered with creases of shadow and tempered with a greyish tint from the stone walls around them. Still, he looks more pallid than he ought to, now that she's taking notice.

"Changed how," she demands in a sort of deadpan manner. She pulls her hands from her pockets and crosses them, no longer feeling the sense of danger she had felt before. This is Regulus, after all. He is misguided, yes, but Regulus all the same. Why had she ever thought he might hurt her? He became a murderer for her, for Merlin's sake.

He doesn't look very pleased that she isn't dropping the subject. Frustrated, he responds in a clipped tone, "I'm not going back to Hogwarts this year, okay? And I don't have time to discuss it with – "

"You're dropping out of school?" she cuts in incredulously. "You can't be serious."

He frowns at her. "Like I said, things have changed."

She frowns at him, too. Suddenly, she's unsure if he's really the same Regulus that she knows or if he's someone entirely different. There's a look in his eyes that is staunch and biting, and so very different from the careful mask he had only just been wearing.

"…You've joined him, then? Officially?" she asks, and then wonders if she really wants to know after all.

It doesn't matter, though, because Regulus doesn't respond to her anyhow. Instead, he merely says, "I came to warn you about your spell. I still care about what happens to you. But this is the last time you'll see me, Vivian. Whatever happens, I'm afraid I can't help you."

And with that, before she can say a single word, Regulus gives her one last look before turning on his heel and striding back to the entrance of the alleyway, disappearing just as quickly as he'd come.

* * *

' _SHE'S WELL AQUAINTED WITH THE TOUCH OF A VELVET HAND_

_LIKE A LIZARD ON A WINDOW PANE._

_THE MAN IN THE CROWD WITH THE MULTICOLORED MIRRORS_

_ON HIS HOBNAIL BOOTS – '_

"What on earth are you listening to?"

Sirius is standing in front of the muggle contraption that belts music whenever he feeds it one of those strange round discs, but at the sound of Vivian's voice, he whirls around to face her. Vivian pauses in the doorway of the cottage, one hand still on the doorknob. After a moment of staring at each other, she turns her attention to the sight of their modest living room, which Sirius seemed to have altered somewhat. The more she studies these alterations, the more she feels her eyebrows raise.

Two empty glasses and a bottle of what appears to be elf-made wine sit on the short table in front of the couch, beside a bouquet of wilted flowers that are drooping pathetically.

"Um. Great, you're finally back," Sirius stumbles, evidently deciding to pretend that he hadn't just been singing along to the lyrics that the muggle contraption is still belting out, so loudly that she can barely hear him at all. As she crosses her arms and sends him a dry look, he coughs and scrambles to turn the volume down to a level that won't decimate their eardrums.

"Dare I even ask?" she drawls sarcastically, though inside she feels more amused than anything else. She glances back to the coffee table. The flowers seem to have drooped a touch more since last she looked.

Her glance draws his attention to them too, and Sirius mutters, "Oh bloody hell," as he reaches for his wand and strides over to them. A quick spell ensures that they are good as new, looking just as fresh as if they had just been picked. He grumbles, "That stupid florist told me they were treated with a spell that makes them everlasting, but I've had to save them from dying about a dozen times already. Vivian, I've been swindled."

Both his tone and the words themselves make her smirk. For a moment, she forgets about the events of the day – the jarring outing with Lily and Marlene, and, most importantly, the meeting with Regulus – and she finds her focus turned to Sirius in its entirety. The change is most welcome.

"What's all this for?" she asks, stepping further into the room.

Sirius gives her a _very_ nonchalant shrug and informs her, "This is a _date,_ Vivian. Honestly. Can't you tell without having to ask?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. In the background, the muggle contraption belts, _'I NEED A FIX CAUSE I'M GOING DOWN! I NEED A FIX – '_

"You chose a song about drugs for a date?" her voice is possibly the driest it's ever been, which is saying a lot really.

Sirius pauses, but she (naturally) isn't done yet.

"And you bought me wilted flowers," Vivian adds, casting a glance at the bouquet, which by the by has already begun to droop again.

He raises his chin and sniffs, "Well. I can see how little you appreciate the effort I've put in."

She presses back an amused smile and haughtily returns, "I guess it's better than the kitchen at Hogwarts."

He sends her a sidelong look and sets his expression to one of deep consideration as he murmurs, "Let's see…if I translate that from Slytherin Sarcasm to normal words, it sounds like you're actually saying, 'Merlin, Sirius, I've never been on a date this incredible!'" That last bit is delivered with such a cringeworthy, high-pitched tone that Vivian finds herself rolling her eyes even as Sirius laughingly draws her closer to him.

"A translation from _Slytherin Sarcasm?"_ she drawls, but doesn't try pulling away when Sirius curls his arms around her.

He turns his head to press his mouth against her cheek. Against it, he chuckles, "Vivian, _most_ of what you say requires a translation."

She turns her head too, but only to give him a look. "I feel like that should probably offend me."

Sirius nods sagely and informs her, "Mhmm. And _that's_ translated to: 'I'm going to pretend to be offended but inside, I'm not, because as usual, Sirius is right'."

She opens her mouth to deliver more sarcasm, but her words end up turning to laughter when Sirius starts dragging her into a dance. It's a jarring sort of dance, hardly romantic due to their laughter as well as the jolting beat of the music that creates the backdrop of it, but Vivian can't bring herself to care. She laughingly tells him, "This is the strangest date I've ever been on," but doesn't think it's the worst, certainly. After all, whenever Sirius is involved, life is warm and happy.

He seems to know it, too, because he grins, "And I'm going to translate _that_ to: 'this is the _best_ date ever'." She snorts, and he becomes a tad bit more serious when he adds, "I know it's not a fancy restaurant, but I was the best I could do considering the state of things right now."

She becomes a bit more serious too. Indeed, the world seems to have changed greatly in the last few months alone. She's not sure, exactly, how bad things were before they had graduated. Hogwarts had created a barrier between school and the real world, but she knows enough from her dealings with prior acquaintances and from reading the Daily Prophet that things have been on a downward spiral for several years now.

In the background, the muggle contraption sings, _'Happiness is a warm gun…happiness is a warm gun…'_ and in this moment, she thinks that truer words have never been spoken.

Her thoughts return to Orion Black, and Mulciber, and Regulus, and Vivian curls her fingers into Sirius's shirt. In a moment of weakness, she scrambles with the notion of simply remaining silent once more. After all, Sirius had set this all up for her. She can playfully complain about his efforts all she wants, but the truth is that these efforts mean more to her than she'll ever admit. _This_ is what she had signed up for, she remembers. She hadn't left her family to help the Order. She had left that life to start a new one with Sirius. The reminder comes to her as a whisper of a thought, impressing upon her so gently and so delicately that it hardly feels substantial enough. And yet it is substantial, so much so that she thinks she can't go on another moment without being honest with him, because after all, they are in this together.

"I need to tell you something," she blurts out before she can think upon it any more. She's afraid that if she does, she'll only justify her silence.

She feels Sirius turn to look at her, and after a brief second spent grappling with her words, Vivian turns to catch his eye. Soft silver exists therein, so different from the iron grey of Regulus's eyes. She feels some piece of her, deep and stubborn and knotted tightly within her gut, unravel.

Sirius furrows his brows when she doesn't immediately say more. Their movements slowly come to a halt. He looks wary, all of the sudden, no doubt scrabbling to work out what it is that she could possibly say, and why it seems as though her message will be a difficult one.

"…Vivian?" he asks, a quiet prompt.

She studies him a moment longer before sighing, "Remember when we went to the Ministry last week and I disappeared for a while?"

Immediately, his expression grows a touch warier. He doesn't respond to her inquiry, but he does seem to be bolstering himself for whatever it is she's about to tell him. He knows Vivian Blair well enough by now to read between the lines.

"I saw your father," she admits, deciding not to drag this out any longer. "And Adrian Mulciber," she adds, almost as an afterthought, before he can interrupt her.

Sirius's brows furrow slightly further. In a slow, careful voice, he repeats, "You saw my father and Mulciber? And you didn't tell me this because…?"

She cringes just so and mumbles, "I didn't want to worry you before I figured out what they were talking about."

Sirius, hearing the words that she isn't saying aloud, raises his eyebrows and asks, "But now you _have_ figured it out?"

Vivian nods, but doesn't explain the rest immediately. Instead, she considers her words as she steps out of his arms and reaches for the elf-made wine. Sirius watches as she pours them two glasses of it. He doesn't make a move to take his, though, even as Vivian sits down on the couch. He merely slips his hands into his pockets and waits, watching her.

"…It's a bit of a long story," she admits. "And you're not going to be happy about it."

The warning doesn't seem to come as a surprise to him, because Sirius just raises his eyebrows a touch more and mutters, "Yeah, I figured as much."

She sends him an exasperated look and says, "Sirius, it's not like I meant for any of this to happen or asked for any of your family members to come looking for me – "

"Just tell me, Vivian," he cuts in, though not unkindly. Rather, he seems tired, and appears to have picked up on yet another silent message between her words: the usage of the phrase 'family members'. His expression only becomes warier.

"Right," she mutters, eyeing him. "…Regulus found me today in Diagon Alley, just as I was about to leave."

There, she said it. Sirius immediately stiffens with a frown, but she feels a sense of relief that it's out in the open now. Well, a part of it is anyway. She'll get to the rest once Sirius comes to terms with the mention of his younger brother, a topic that always upsets him regardless of context.

"Regulus," he repeats. "As in my brother Regulus."

She nearly rolls her eyes at him, but forces down the urge at the last moment because she knows it won't help matters any.

Still, despite this, she can't help but wonder, "Do you know anyone _else_ with that name?"

The stormy look that crosses Sirius's face makes her wish she hadn't said it, though. He steps to the table and finally reaches for the glass of elf-made wine she had poured for him, taking a generous sip. Then, with a frown, he mutters, "Yeah, you're right, I don't like this at all."

She sighs, "Sit down and I'll explain it, Sirius."

For a moment, he looks like he wants to argue, but he ultimately does sit down. She takes this as a good sign. If he was truly angry with her, then he'd be more stubborn about it.

"Let me start with the Ministry," Vivian says. "I saw your father and Abraxas Malfoy and followed them. They were talking about Voldemort and it piqued my interest. They said he was angry about something, so when they got off the lift, I got off too." She glances at Sirius, who has turned on the couch to watch her. His expression is still stormy, perhaps because he's still a bit rankled that she hadn't told him about this before, but his eyes are now shining with something far more telling: curiosity. She takes this as a good sign, too, and explains, "They went down to the lower courts. Mulciber was there. He's some sort of attorney or something."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. With a snort, he repeats, "He's an _attorney?_ In the _lower courts?_ Doesn't his father have connections in the Ministry? Why would he start on the lowest rung of the ladder?" Then, pausing, he mutters, "Unless he was _placed_ there."

Pleased that he's reached the correct conclusion, Vivian nods, "I overheard them say something about Voldemort trying to infiltrate the courts. Regulus said the same thing when I asked about it today."

The reminder that his younger brother has something to do with this wipes away the curiosity from Sirius's eyes and replaces it with the same wariness that had existed moments before. He clenches his jaw and mumbles, "Right. How does he play into this whole thing, then?"

Vivian chews over her words for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and rushing out, "He said he came to warn me. Apparently, the spell I created last year has a few…problems. Regulus said that Voldemort is angry about it and wants me to fix it."

Sirius catches her eye, but doesn't respond for several long moments. He seems to be thinking this through. Finally, he rubs his face and asks, "What kind of problems?" He seems to be deflecting from the more important part of her message: the fact that Voldemort is angry with her, which is most certainly not a good thing.

"The Inferi that it raises end up turning back to normal after a while," she tells him, studying him closely. In the background, the music has changed to a fast-paced song, even more jarring than the last. It feels odd in the current circumstances. Vivian turns to him and says, "I think Mulciber is the one with orders to find me. I overheard him saying as much, only I didn't connect all the dots until Regulus's warning." Then, with a frown, she adds, "He said he _'knew how to handle blood traitors'."_

Sirius snorts, leaning back against the couch and glancing over at her. "I'd rather be a blood traitor any day," he mutters, and eyes her as if he wonders if his words have caused insult. But Vivian is no longer the same person who might take offense at being referred to as such, and merely curls her legs onto the couch and shuffles closer to him.

"Sirius," she says quietly, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Mulciber sooner. I just – I don't know, I've been so frustrated lately because of the Order that I thought it was better to wait for more information – "

"I'm not angry at you, Vivian," he cuts in, lifting a hand to her cheek. "But if we want to make this work, we need to be honest with each other."

She nods. He's right, of course. Without truth, everything falls apart.

" _You're_ the reason I left my family, Sirius," she whispers to him. "Not the Order. Not Dumbledore's missions. You."

His eyes soften, and a moment later, he's leaning in to press his forehead against hers. He reaches down to take her hand and murmurs, "I know. I love you, Vivian."

He's said those words many times since realizing his feelings for her. Gryffindors are like that. They can be stubborn about accepting their feelings, but once they do, they're not afraid to express them. Slytherins aren't either, only they tend to see emotions as a means of obtaining power, and this notion has been so heavily ingrained within Vivian for so many years that it's difficult for her to bypass it. So instead of repeating the words to him as she'd like to, they get lodged in her throat, and after a moment, they fall away entirely. Sirius doesn't seem to be expecting her to repeat them though. He knows full well that just because she doesn't say the words aloud doesn't mean they don't exist there within her eyes. He can see her clearly, every crease and every corner. Every sentiment she feels but doesn't always express.

"We should talk to Dumbledore at the next meeting," Sirius murmurs after a moment. He reaches up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "He should be aware of this. And we'll need a plan. Somewhere to meet if anything ever happens, that way we have a place to go that only we know about."

She admittedly hasn't given much thought to all of this, but Sirius makes a good point. Having backup plans has always appealed to her. It's a very Slytherin notion, calculating such things. She silently considers it now, wondering what other plans they ought to create should they run into any danger, but she doesn't get very far into these thoughts.

"How was he?" Sirius suddenly blurts out, looking vaguely uncomfortable upon asking.

It's hardly any surprise why, and despite the abrupt nature of his question, she understands who he's asking after. Regulus has always been a shaky topic between her and Sirius, for rather obvious reasons.

Vivian slowly responds, "…He seemed fine. He left before I could ask anything important…but he did tell me that he's dropping out of school."

This information makes Sirius's eyes darken. "So he's joined then."

She doesn't verbally respond, but her silence is telling enough.

Sirius sighs and grumbles, "Well this was botched date."

She can tell that these words are purposefully administered to brighten the atmosphere of the room. His tone is almost falsely lighthearted, as if he's trying a bit too hard. She doesn't complain, though, and just smiles.

"To be fair," she drawls, matching his lighter tone as she curls an arm around his shoulders and fits herself into his side, "the wilted flowers didn't help any."

Sirius nudges her playfully but just exhales with a laugh that sounds just as forced as his lighthearted tone. She hesitates for just a moment before leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his mouth, and then she pulls away and stands up. Sirius raises an eyebrow when she takes his hand and makes it clear that she wants him to stand too.

"…What are you doing?" he asks, but stand nonetheless.

Vivian clears her throat. "I think we should go to bed," is all she says, watching him carefully.

Now. Let it be said that Sirius is not always an idiot. Though Vivian has plenty of arguments proving the contrary, he does at times demonstrate his intelligence.

"…Marlene got to you, didn't she," he says.

Vivian rolls her eyes at him. She refuses to admit that _Marlene McKinnon_ has anything to do with this and instead just grumbles, "Well if you don't want to, you can sleep on the couch for all I care."

"Let's not be hasty," he quickly cuts in, and strides over to the muggle music contraption to hastily turn it off. He's grinning when he turns back to face her, looking so full of himself that Vivian nearly retracts her suggestion entirely. With a smirk, Sirius sighs, "It took you long enough to see sense, really. Any other bird would've insisted I share their bed at the earliest opportunity – "

"If you keep talking, I might actually make you sleep outside," Vivian deadpans, much to his amusement.

He laughs. "You wouldn't," he says.

"I would too," she responds, and likes to think that she means it.

Sirius just shakes his head at her as if he doesn't believe her, and strides back to where she stands to pull her into his arms. A moment later, he's leaning down to kiss her, and against her mouth, he murmurs, "Like I said, you wouldn't last a week without me, Godric."

Vivian sends him a narrowed look, but just sighs and doesn't respond. It's only later, when she's pulling back the covers and tentatively curling into his side that she speaks.

"…I love you too, Sirius," she murmurs to him through the darkness, and feels him freeze.

A moment later, he's sitting up and turning the light back on. "Say that again," he demands, much to her amusement.

Vivian sends him an exasperated look. "Why should I?" she asks, just to be difficult.

Sirius tries his best to look annoyed at her stubbornness, but he can't quite stop the grin from spreading over his face.

"Come on," he says, "say it."

And, though she tries her best to look annoyed at _him,_ well…

"I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep."

Sirius laughs and only obeys half of what she says. He does shut up, but only because he's leaning down to kiss her.


	8. Decies repetita placebit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not posting this chapter yesterday! I have been so busy this week that I didn't have any time to write at all (an atrocity I know), which is why this update is so short. Hoping that the next chapter will make up for it!

**Chapter Eight | Decies repetita placebit**

**[Though ten times repeated, it will continue to please]**

Sirius Black has always been one of those beautiful human beings. The sort of man that others look up to. The sort who can charm his way out of anything, with just the flash of a smile. Vivian's always known it, of course. Even back when she loathed the very ground he walked on, she'd have to be blind not to realize that Sirius has been blessed with a certain cavalier beauty that is impossible to deny. Yes, she knows it, but it's never quite struck her in the same way it does in this moment. There's just something about the way the sun gently captures his features that enraptures her, and the way his hair falls into his eyes as he breathes deeply in peace, and the softness of his expression as that peace overrides the usual fire that he exhibits in his waking hours. Or, perhaps, what really strikes her above all of these things is the fact that he is right _there,_ so close to her that she can feel the warmth of his body radiating from his skin, as if that fire is still smoldering even now. Sirius Black really is beautiful, which, despite being _aware_ of this, is something that Vivian Blair would have never admitted before he had so thoroughly overturned her life. Nor, she muses, would she admit it now, if only because she knows that it would stoke his ego far too much.

The thought makes her smile. She reaches out to touch a strand of his hair and threads it behind his ear. Her fingers are so tentative and her touch so slight that she doesn't expect him to feel it at all, which is why she's surprised when he reaches up to take her hand and presses her fingers against his lips.

"…I know I look gorgeous in the mornings, Vivian, but you don't have to stare," he mumbles into his pillow.

Upon realizing that he had actually been awake and not asleep as she had assumed, she feels her cheeks flush. The horror of blushing because of something Sirius Black said makes her flush all the more, and not even her immediate attempts to scoff off the situation helps her.

"You're so full of yourself," she mutters, making sure to set her features into a proper scowl just in case. The insurance policy against her own embarrassment hardly helps her either though, because the moment Sirius opens his eyes and catches sight of her reddened cheeks, a grin like no other begins to spread over his face.

Honestly, it's moments like these that Vivian remembers that he's got some Slytherin in him yet.

"Godric, you're _blushing,"_ he crows, releasing her hand so that he can push himself onto his elbows and subsequently get a better look at her face.

Vivian's scowl grows more pronounced. As does her blush.

"For the last time, don't call me that," she snaps, and promptly rolls over so that her back is facing him.

Sirius barks out a laugh. A moment later, he's shuffling closer and peering down at her with that annoying Slytherin grin still etched across his face. "See?" he gloats, "Since you were just admiring my good looks, you can admit that you like waking up next to each other. Don't you wish you hadn't been so stubborn about it before?"

She elbows him (rather gently, truth be told) and he cringes (rather dramatically, if you ask her) and she mutters, "You have an annoying tendency of making me regret being nice to you, Sirius."

He snickers and props his elbow onto the pillow before resting his head on his hand. In a sarcastic tone, he fires back, "Oh, so finally caving and letting me get a good night's sleep for the first time in what feels like ages is you being 'nice' now?"

She pauses at this and rolls onto her back to look up at him. After a moment's hesitation, Vivian asks, "Was it really that bad?"

He raises an eyebrow. "What, sleeping on a lumpy mattress? It wasn't exactly a walk in the park." When he sees her expression, which is just guilty enough to make her eyebrows furrow, he huffs out a laugh and adds, "It's fine, Vivian. I didn't really mind _that_ much." Then, with a slightly more mischievous gleam in his eyes, he shuffles closer and murmurs, "But I like this particular arrangement a hell of a lot better."

Once again, she feels a flush come to her cheeks, but it's only the barest hint of warmth, and it's mainly because of the way he's looking at her. His eyes are open fields, drawn to her as if by some hidden force that dwells just beneath their surface. There is a quiet magnetism there that makes her reach for him. She feels a smile curving over her lips when she murmurs, "I do, too."

Sirius grins again, but this time there isn't anything Slytherin about it. No, this time, his smile is open and bathed in sincerity, and when she pulls him down, his eyes are absolutely shining.

"…Does that mean we can throw that mattress out?" he murmurs as his lips brush against hers. An expression, half tempered with mischief, sweeps over his face.

Vivian laughs. She curls her fingers into his hair and tugs him closer, urging him to kiss her more solidly. She doesn't respond to him in any way save for the urgency of her kiss, which Sirius rightfully takes as a response in itself. He sinks into the kiss with a low hum and mumbles, "…I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me for very long."

Vivian's only response to this is to thread her fingers into his hair and pull him closer, effectively shutting him up in a way that Sirius can't find any fault with whatsoever. The lingering sleep leaves him with every second that passes, until he is pressing her into the mattress with an exhaled sigh and reaching up to tangle his fingers into her hair, too. The strands are like silk against his fingertips.

There is something sacred about this morning, Vivian decides as her hands drift down his back to map out the curves and planes of it. She wonders why she had been so tentative about sharing a bed before. It seems so silly, now; a hesitance that she had clung to, unnecessarily, as if she had been trying to shield herself from surrendering to the life she had willingly decided to pursue. Why? Had she truly been that apprehensive? She supposes she had, but only because it had been such a large step to take.

Some pills are bitter to swallow. The realization that her path led irrevocably away from that of her family's had been difficult to accept. She doesn't regret her choice, but it hadn't been an easy one to make. Her parents may not be the most expressive where it concerns showing their love for her, but deep down, Vivian knows that they both do love her – yes, even her father, despite his actions and his direction. Blood is thicker than water, even when it has been tainted. Keeping some semblance of distance between herself and Sirius had perhaps been a sort of strategy to ensue that she didn't bite off more than she could chew, but she had been fooling herself to think that it had been the right course of action. There is nothing she wants _more_ than Sirius Black, and she decides to stop pretending otherwise when she presses her hands against his chest and pushes him off of her. If for a split second, Sirius thinks that this move is a means to halt their kiss, he is proven very wrong when Vivian pushes him onto his back and promptly captures his lips once more in a kiss that is touched with more fire than it had been a moment before. He's hardly about to complain, though.

"Yeah, we're definitely throwing out that mattress," he murmurs, voice low and heady as Vivian fits her body against his and does her best to shut him up. She isn't really in the mood for words, which, to be frank, he also can't complain about.

He reaches for her hips to pull her against him, grasping the thin fabric of her nightshirt and tangling his fingers into it so tightly that it creases easily beneath his grasp. He isn't sure what he had been expecting the morning to bring, but it certainly hadn't been this. They've shared plenty of moments together since moving into the cottage, but Vivian has always put an end to those moments before they could grow too impassioned. He hadn't stopped her or complained about that, either. He's well aware how sudden this move had been for her. How quickly life can change and how you are sometimes left reeling in the wake of those changes. It feels as if you have been unmoored too quickly, swept off too swiftly. He knows that feeling well enough. He's been there before.

But now, as Vivian's hand shifts over his chest, as her kiss steals more than just his breath, he is reminded of the way she had kissed him before that unmooring had happened. Yes, before, back when she was still warring with herself and her choices; back during those detentions when she would pour out her indecisiveness into those kisses. He hadn't thought of it in those terms then, but it feels, oddly, as if a piece of the puzzle now drops into place, and it is only now that he realizes it had been missing at all.

The thought softens the passion that has filled him. He sits up, suddenly and without pausing to think on his actions. The kiss breaks as a result and Vivian's brows furrow with confusion, but Sirius is quick to quell it when he raises a hand to her face and pulls her back into him. Only, this time the kiss is different somehow, altered in such a way so as to imitate the softer version of his love for her.

If she notices the change, she doesn't show it, but there is something in her eyes that tells him she does. She stares at him for several heartbeats, and then she edges forward to encircle her arms around his neck in an almost tentative manner. He can't quite describe it, but it feels a bit like surrender.

"Tell me again," he whispers, folding his arms around her to keep her in place. His hand burns against her lower back. The warmth of his fingers is so poignant that it feels almost as if there is no barrier at all between their skin.

Vivian raises her eyebrows at him as if she isn't sure what he means, but that would be a lie and Sirius knows it. He can see the flash of understanding in her eyes. Vivian Blair can't fool him as well as she likes to believe.

"…Tell you what?" she whispers back, though her mouth is now quirking up just so and any attempt at pretending to be clueless is rather defeated by the expression.

Sirius rests his forehead against hers and quietly grins, "Do I really have to drag it out of you every damn time?"

Vivian's smile quirks up a touch more.

"Drag what out of me?" she wonders. Then, when Sirius sends her a look, she laughs, threads her fingers into his hair, and drags his head back. To her delight, his breath catches when she lowers her mouth to his neck and says in a clear voice, "I love you."

His breath catches again when her tongue darts against his skin.

"I love you," he hears her say.

He swallows, grasps her tightly, and nearly groans when her teeth scrapes against his collar.

"I love you, Sirius," she tells him, low and fierce. And really, it's the way she says his name that really topples the rest of his self-control. The way she nearly growls it. The way it's bathed with wildfire.

"Vivian, you make me crazy," he hoarsely informs her, and pulls her down once more to the mattress. This time, it's her breath that catches when Sirius kisses her with so much fire that she swears she feels it in every part of her, like one unending wave.

Unfortunately, though, that's about the time when their morning comes to an abrupt and aggravating halt, courtesy of one James Potter, whose favorite hobby just so happens to be making Vivian's life much more challenging than it need be.

"GOOD MORNING!" comes a very loud, very obnoxious voice, and the very next moment, the bedroom door is slamming open and that voice crows, "Get your mind out of the gutter, you two. I brought bagels!"

Upon hearing the loud and obnoxious shout, Sirius had jumped almost comically. Now, he turns to the bedroom doorway to send his friend a ridiculously baffled look, complete with wide eyes and mussed up hair. As for Vivian, her gaze narrows so quickly that it can only be from the result of years spent honing her Slytherin Glare, which is quite useful every now and again, especially when dealing with Potter.

"Prongs?" Sirius asks, sounding incredibly confused.

Vivian rolls her eyes and scowls at James, thoroughly annoyed that he had interrupted such a promising moment. "What the hell are you doing here and why did you bring bagels, Potter," she demands, not even bothering to lift her voice at the end of her question. To be honest, while James's appearance is a bit of a shock (this is _their_ house, after all), she can't exactly claim to be that surprised (this is _James Potter,_ you know).

James's expression shifts into the smirk he often gets whenever he's in a particularly strong Marauding mood. He shrugs innocently and eyes the scene before him. The innocent shrug doesn't lessen the mischief of his smirk at all. In fact, it only increases it.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

He sounds so sarcastic that the first response Vivian thinks of is to reach behind her, grab her pillow, and throw it at him. It doesn't do much good, but it does make her feel somewhat mollified.

"I will hex you," she warns, which makes her feel even better.

James, though, just laughs, "You've threatened to hex me _so_ many times but you never ha – " his words are cut off with a yelp as Vivian grabs her wand, and the rest of his sentence is muffled because James knows better than to allow himself to be such an easy target, thank you, and it's much safer to move to the hallway. "Okay, okay!" he calls, "I only came to tell you that the next Order meeting is being rescheduled to tomorrow evening."

Sirius, who appears to have stopped reeling from James's sudden appearance and is now feeling a bit more frustrated with said appearance, barks, "You interrupted us to tell us _that?"_

Vivian tilts her head back in exasperation and goes to stand up. Sirius frowns and looks as if he'd like to complain, but seeing as James is poking his head into the room, he ultimately doesn't.

"Moody told me that Dumbledore's concocting a better way to send messages between us, but he hasn't perfected it yet," James says, then clears his throat when he realizes that Vivian is still glowering at him and ducks back into the hallway. He calls, "Besides, it's not as if you can't go back to snogging each other's brains out once I leave!"

Vivian turns to Sirius and growls, "Go get rid of him, Sirius."

James, pouting, calls, "Oi, I don't appreciate that, Pride. I brought you _bagels."_

"You can take your bagels and shove them up your – "

Sirius coughs, "Prongs, the next time you decide to drop by for a visit, warn us beforehand."

Out in the hallway, James snorts out a laugh. "Alright, fine. See if I buy you bagels ever again."

"We don't give a shite about your fucking bagels – "

Sirius sighs, "Let's just have breakfast, Vivian."

She glowers at him and, after a moment spent eyeing his mussed up appearance and inwardly bemoaning the unreached potential of the morning, mumbles, "…Fine. But then I'm kicking Potter out."

Sirius sighs and nods.


	9. Omnia mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! I'm still working on my plans for this story, so things should start picking up soon. Hope you all bear with me a little longer while I figure everything out!

**Chapter Nine | Omnia mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis**

**[All things change and we change with them]**

Vivian is a little wary about attending the next Order meeting. Her unexpected run-in with Regulus weighs on her mind all day, and even the small tasks she attempts to distract herself with don't help to divert her thoughts from the encounter. She spends the morning before the meeting writing Gavin a letter in response to the one he'd sent several days before, but she finds that it takes her more effort than it ought to. She spends the first paragraph telling him that she's happy he's enjoying his time in Norway, but once it comes time to update him on the latest events in her own life, she is unable to come up with the right words. She's not sure what she should tell him and what she shouldn't. How much information should she put down in writing? What are the chances of her letter being opened by another's hands before it is able to reach his? Gavin doesn't know anything about the Order. Sirius had convinced her weeks ago that it would be a bad idea to disclose such information in a letter, and she had agreed. So instead, she writes about the latest happenings in her life and says nothing about Regulus or the Order of the Phoenix, even though she dearly wishes she could. She would very much like to have Gavin's take on everything. He would surely have a perspective different from her own. She gets about halfway through the letter before all inspiration leaves her, and Vivian sighs and pushes it away to finish later. She doesn't much like the thought of leaving Gavin out of the loop, and for the first time since they had said their goodbyes weeks before, she feels herself missing him very much.

In search of something else to distract herself with, Vivian wanders around the cottage for a time before making her way into the small living room, where Sirius had proudly placed the strange muggle music contraption. She eyes the round discs that he calls 'vinyls' and, bored, begins to look through them. As expected, she doesn't recognize most of the bands, though she's sure she's heard many of them by now. The artwork on the covers vary from dark shades to bright, primal hues, like the one her fingers linger on now.

"That's a good one," Sirius's voice suddenly cuts through the silence, and Vivian startles for one brief moment when his hand appears in her vision and he reaches for the one she was looking at.

She turns her eyes from his face to the cover of the record. The whole of it is a bright red, with one thin line of blue down the side. She raises an eyebrow at it and says, "It doesn't look very impressive."

Behind her, Sirius huffs and sighs, "You'll change your mind once you hear it, Vivi."

A quiet warmth spreads through her at the use of the nickname, which grows when Sirius wraps his arms around her from behind and muses, "You know, I still haven't brought you to a proper rock concert. We really need to change that."

She hums dryly, though notably doesn't try to wrangle herself out of his arms, and replies, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, what with everything going on."

She feels him shrug. There's a grin in his voice when he says, "A little bit of risk makes living worthwhile. Besides, my latest goal is to get you completely hooked on muggle music."

At this, Vivian laughs and turns in his arms to send him an amused look. "Is it?"

Sirius smiles smugly at her and says, "Well you're already obsessed with muggle books. This is the next step."

She just laughs and murmurs, "…If you say so," but doesn't argue.

* * *

At around five o'clock, Vivian and Sirius make their way to London, to the muggle pub that has been the backdrop of the last few Order meetings. After an entire day spent quietly worrying about how she's going to tell Dumbledore about her encounter with Regulus, Vivian is grateful that the wait is over. She's pleased to get this over with, at the very least, even though she's expecting her message to be taken with a heavy helping of distrust. That seems to be the way of things of late.

"It's going to be fine, Vivian," Sirius tells her yet again as they approach the muggle pub. They receive quite a few odd glances, as per usual. Though Sirius is wearing muggle clothes, Vivian's long cloak attracts attention, and she figures that the strange combination of their appearances doesn't help matters any. She's grown accustomed to these glances though, and merely strides to the door and shrugs them off.

She doesn't respond to Sirius, though she does send him a silent nod as they enter the pub. He's been repeating these words all day. Evidently, her concerns have been a bit more obvious than she'd meant them to be.

The pub is bustling when they enter it. Because it's evening and the work day is over, there's hardly a free table in sight. It's somewhat fascinating to watch how business is conducted without the use of magic, but neither Vivian nor Sirius linger too long. They had been a bit late to the last meeting and had gotten a glower from Moody upon their tardy arrival, and neither of them wishes to relive that particular experience. Moody's glowers can be rather frightful, especially when one is unprepared to be on the receiving end of them.

The location of their meetings have changed several times since the first one they had attended several weeks before. The last one had been in a pub located just beside the Thames, and the one before that in an upscale establishment near Kensington. In contrast, their current location is far less impressive, but it serves its purpose despite the crowded back room in which the meeting is to be held. When Vivian and Sirius enter it and shut the door behind them, they find that most of their fellows have already arrived, but thankfully, they don't seem to be holding the meeting up this time.

"You're just in time," James murmurs as Sirius falls into the seat beside him. "We're just waiting on Peter."

Vivian hums and glances around with a raised brow. "Where's Evans?" she asks, turning her attention to the seat on James's other side. Instead of being occupied by the redhead, Remus is sitting there. It's quite irregular, these days, to see James without Lily.

At the mention of his ladylove's absence, James mournfully sighs, "She's attending her sister's wedding shower."

"…I didn't know she had a sister," Vivian mutters as she sits down next to Sirius.

James sniffs, "Yes, well. I wouldn't say this if Lily was here, but Petunia's a total cow. You should see the man she's marrying, too." Then, smirking, he leans around Sirius to add, "He looks remarkably like a walrus."

Vivian snorts. She can't quite help the smirk that captures her mouth at James's mock-whisper. "I take it you don't like him, either," she guesses.

Jame mutters, "He's even worse than Petunia, and she's no ray of sunshine either."

Sirius rolls his eyes at the two of them and shoves James out of his personal space. "Dumbledore's here," he says when James raises an eyebrow at the move.

Indeed, Dumbledore is even now sweeping into the room, dressed this time in the usual long robes that Vivian is accustomed to seeing him in. The sight of him immediately silences the room, as does the grave look on his face. Mad-Eye clears his throat and stands to attention at the head of the table, where he had been sitting moments before. He exchanges a brief nod with Dumbledore, who murmurs a short greeting before turning to the rest of the table. Just as Dumbledore is opening his mouth to speak, however, the door bursts open and everyone turns to stare at Peter, who appears to be out of breath. To be honest, he seems more than just out of breath.

"S-sorry," he squeaks, and hurries to one of the empty chairs, ducking his head as he passes Moody's now-glowering expression. He nearly collapses into the chair, still breathing heavily, and mops at his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. He seems paler than usual.

Though Mad-Eye looks like he wants to draw attention to Peter's lateness, Dumbledore merely gazes at the occupants of the table and, after several beats of silence, says, "Now that we're all here, I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news." He pauses again before pursing his lips and saying, "One of our spies in the Ministry was found early yesterday morning dead in his home. The Dark Mark was seen over his house."

The silence of the room grows even more solemn upon hearing this. Sirius furrows his brow and frowns.

"…The fact that it was one of our own is concerning," Dumbledore continues. "We're still looking into the cause – "

"It was murder, plain and simple," Moody grumbles.

Dumbledore shoots him a look. "Yes," he says after a long, drawn out moment. "But as to whether any connection could be traced to the Order, we are still unsure. The reason I've called this meeting is to warn you all to be on your guard. Trust no one outside of this room. Voldemort will do everything in his power to quell our humble uprising and we must be cautious in all of our actions, even – and perhaps most importantly – when we think we are safe."

Vivian threads her fingers together beneath the table and swallows down the lump in her throat. Dumbledore's words hit home for her in a way that she can't deny, and all she can see is Regulus's face in her thoughts. Trust no one, Dumbledore had said, but surely she can trust Regulus? The news of this latest murder makes her suddenly doubt this, though, and she wonders if she ought to speak with Dumbledore about her encounter after all. The same concerns that have plagued her all day grow now, as she sits there. What will Dumbledore say if he knew that she had met with Regulus Black, a known Death Eater? Her position with the Order is already precarious as it is with her own less-than-stellar background.

A hand suddenly reaches for hers, and Vivian glances over at Sirius, who seems to be aware of the direction her thoughts had taken. He sends her a quietly confident look that sets her mind at ease, but it doesn't dispel all of her concerns. Still, she's grateful for his presence and slips her hand into his all the same, finding a certain strength in his touch.

"Edgar, you still have good standing at the Ministry," Dumbledore is saying. "Be careful not to draw attention to yourself. We need more people there or we will be well and truly overwhelmed. Keep yours ears open for anything of interest."

Edgar Bones, who is sitting on the other side of the table, nods grimly. Dumbledore glances at Moody and nods to him, seemingly sending him a silent signal. The message is received, for Mad-Eye clears his throat a moment later and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a small stack of parchment, several inches in width and length, and sets them on the table. Then, drawing out his wand, he flicks it over the papers and they begin to drift through the air to each of the table's occupants.

"This is our latest mode of communication," Moody informs them in his gruff voice. "When Albus decides on the date and location of the meeting, it will appear on the parchment. It's not failproof, so make sure you don't let it fall into the wrong hands. We're working on a better way to communicate. I'm expecting that it will be ready to introduce during the next meeting."

Two of the squares of parchment flutter onto the table in front of Vivian and Sirius. She reaches for it, thumbing over the edge as she studies the nondescript paper. It's blank for now; an empty canvas with nothing discriminatory to give its true purpose away. It appears to be little more than a scrap of parchment torn off of a larger roll and abandoned.

"Now, I wish to speak with Mr. Lupin privately," Dumbledore says, which seems to surprise Remus. He looks up with raised eyebrows, only for Dumbledore to gesture to the side of the room. A moment later, Remus is shuffling out of his chair and making his way over to him.

The rest of the Order members begin to talk quietly amongst themselves after that, speculating on the murder of Dumbledore's Ministry acquaintance. As they do, James turns to Peter and studies his pallid form with a frown.

"You okay, Pete? Why were you late?" he asks, sounding a bit worried. "You didn't run into any trouble, did you?"

Vivian and Sirius turn to Peter too, who seems to wilt beneath the attention. None of them find this particularly strange. Peter never liked being in the spotlight.

"Erm, yeah, I just…forgot where we were meeting," Peter says with a cough.

The explanation is a bit more inane that James had been expecting, because he snorts, "You forgot? Merlin, Wormtail, and here I thought you had more than two braincells."

Sirius laughs, but quickly muffles the sound and says, "Don't worry, Pete. James here is just languishing in Lily's absence and taking his agony out on you."

James frowns at him and mutters, "…That's not true. I can survive without Lily. I'd just rather not."

Vivian rolls her eyes but decides not to get involved in the latest Marauder drama. As for Peter, he seems just as pleased that the conversation has moved on from him, and sits back in his chair to watch the back and forth.

"You say _I'm_ whipped, but I think you should take a better look at yourself, mate," Sirius drawls.

James's response to this is a simple, "Ah, but the difference is that I never said I wasn't, Padfoot. See, unlike you, I'm perfectly content with Lily ordering me around."

Sirius sends him an incredulous look and sighs, "You're barmy."

James shrugs, "I've never denied _that,_ either."

Vivian, who has been ignoring them as much as she is able, turns her attention to Remus and Dumbledore, who are still standing on the other end of the room and speaking in hushed undertones.

"What do you think they're talking about, anyway?" she murmurs, tilting her head curiously.

Sirius shrugs. "Dunno. I'm sure Moony'll tell us after the meeting though." Then, turning to James, he says, "How about you and Wormtail come over for a drink?"

Vivian, whose attention is still on Remus and Dumbledore, just barely hears James refuse the offer because he was "planning on crashing Petunia's wedding shower at the earliest opportunity to save my Lilyflower from an evening of intense boredom". At this, she sends James a look and sighs, "Are you _trying_ to make Lily's sister hate you, Potter?"

James just leans back in his chair and smugly responds, "Oh, I've already accomplished that, Pride. It was my first order of business."

Vivian stares at him for one long moment before rolling her eyes again and muttering, "Gryffindors," beneath her breath.

The conversation quickly turns back to the murder, but Vivian is too busy watching for an opening to speak with Dumbledore and she doesn't join in. The first moment she sees the opportunity, she's standing up and making her way across the room, much to the surprise of James, who had been in the middle of asking her what she thinks of Voldemort's not-so-subtle plan on infiltrating the Ministry. Sirius stands up quickly too and follows her, leaving James without further explanation.

"I'd like to talk to you," Vivian says as Remus is turning back to the table. Dumbledore and Remus both glance at her in subtle surprise, the latter looking back at Dumbledore before clearing his throat and taking his leave. The moment he's gone, Dumbledore turns to Vivian with a calm expression.

"Rest assured, Vivian," he says, "I've been considering what role you might take – "

"It's not that," Vivian interrupts, much to his surprise. Dumbledore pauses and studies her, waiting for her to further explain herself. She does a moment later, just as Sirius comes to stand beside her.

"Regulus Black approached me the other day," she says in a hushed tone, not wanting anyone to overhear, especially Moody. The man already distrusts her as it is, it seems. She doesn't want him to think that she sought Regulus out herself.

Dumbledore doesn't seem to be expecting this, because he straightens up and raises his eyebrows at her. "…And what did Mr. Black want?" is all he asks. His tone is light, but the serious way he's looking at her makes it clear that he is very interested in hearing her answer.

Vivian awkwardly shifts on her feet and responds, "The spell that Voldemort wanted me to create for him last year? The one that strengths Inferi?" She pauses and mutters, "Apparently it isn't working properly. Regulus came to warn me that Voldemort wants me to fix it. I know you said not to trust anyone outside this room, but Regulus… _cares_ for me. I believe he was being sincere."

She sees Sirius frown out of the corner of her eye, but he doesn't say anything. He's well aware of the affections his brother has for Vivian. It hadn't escaped him last year, when Regulus had stood up for Vivian during the moments when he had taken things a little too far. It was clear as day that Regulus cared about her, but Vivian has never spoken about it all that much since they had left Hogwarts. That particular topic isn't one they dwell on overmuch.

Dumbledore hums thoughtfully, still studying Vivian over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. In a calm voice, he says, "I've been looking into Voldemort's fascination with Inferi. It is my belief that he is attempting to create an army of them, though I haven't yet come to any conclusions as to whether he means to use them to bolster his own troops or if he has another plan for them." He trails off, then purses his mouth and adds, "It was good that you brought this to my attention. I recommend that you remain under the radar for the time being, Vivian. If Voldemort himself is searching for you, then you should take care not to make his search too easy. It does concern me that Mr. Black was able to track you down."

Sirius frowns and mutters, "Yeah…that concerns me as well."

Dumbledore sighs, "I believe this needs to be given some thought. We'll speak more about it at the next meeting, once I've mulled it over."

At this moment, Mad-Eye approaches Dumbledore and cuts short his words. He leaves the pair to speak with the Auror, much to Vivian's frustration. She glances over at Sirius and mutters, "Why does it feel like he's brushing me off again?"

Sirius doesn't appear to know what to say. In a hesitant voice, he murmurs, "He's a busy man…?"

The answer doesn't appear to make her feel any better, and Vivian just scoffs.

* * *

Despite James's prior plans to crash Petunia's wedding shower, both him and Remus end up returning to the cottage after the meeting is finished. Sirius had invited Peter along as well, but the invitation had been denied. Apparently, Peter has met someone (a cause for much teasing from the other Marauders) and is meeting with his new flame that night for their first date (yet another cause for teasing). After parting ways, the remaining three Marauders talk about it for the duration of the journey back and don't stop until they are comfortably sitting on the couch in Vivian and Sirius's living room.

"What did you want to talk to Dumbledore about, Pride?" James asks as Sirius flicks his wand and procures a bottle of firewhiskey for them. James sets out several glasses for them.

Vivian glances over at Sirius, silently wondering if she should tell James about Regulus. Despite talking about wanting to hash out a plan, neither of them has done so, and she isn't sure how much she should say. Sirius makes it easy for her though, and murmurs, "We should tell them. If something happens to you, it'd be a good idea for them to be made aware that way they can help."

These vague words make Remus raise his eyebrows. He reaches for his firewhiskey and asks, "What are you talking about? Did something happen, Vivian?"

Vivian sits down and mutters, "Yeah…Regulus happened. He practically dragged me into an alley when I was in London with Evans and McKinnon."

As she explains the situation to James and Remus, going over her apparently botched spell and Regulus's subsequent warning, their expressions become graver.

"…And you trust Regulus?" James asks once she finishes. He sounds somewhat surprised.

Vivian shrugs, "He's always looked after me."

She doesn't miss the glance James sends Sirius, but chooses not to remark upon it. Sirius knows full well the nature of her relationship with Regulus. In any case, she can't blame them for being wary. Regulus's connections to the Death Eaters isn't exactly a secret to them.

Remus, ever the voice of reason, hums, "Well, it'd probably be best to keep to yourself until Dumbledore comes up with a plan. We can probably use this to our advantage…somehow."

Vivian frowns and mutters, "I've been keeping to myself ever since I joined the Order." The Marauders all send her looks that verge of pity, which she doesn't appreciate overmuch. She changes the subject and asks, "What did Dumbledore want to talk to _you_ about, Lupin?"

The question has Remus turning his eyes to his firewhiskey. He slowly responds, "…He wants me to travel to the werewolf clans and try to recruit them into the Order."

This information makes them all stare. A silence falls upon the room. Coupled with Regulus's reappearance, Remus's latest mission seems to add a certain gravity to their conversation that hadn't been there before. It feels, suddenly, as if a certain weight now hangs upon them, as if the world has become several shades more precarious in only a matter of seconds.

"…Werewolves?" Sirius murmurs with a frown. "That's a pretty dangerous request."

'Dangerous' doesn't really do it justice, though. Werewolves are notoriously savage to anyone who isn't already a part of their pack. They aren't known for their trust, even to other werewolves.

Remus nods and gives a shaky laugh. "Yeah. Dumbledore seems to think that Voldemort is trying to recruit them, and he wants to bring as many to our side as possible. I'm leaving in a few days. Not sure when I'll be back."

When, or if. The silent addition to the words isn't lost on any of them.

With a frown, James mutters, "…You know, I'm really starting to wish we were back at Hogwarts. Things were easier back then."

Sirius hums and runs a hand through his hair. "Well, let's get together before you leave, Rem. And this time, we need to make sure Peter comes. I swear he was acting off at the meeting."

James nods in agreement and muses, "I still can't believe he's seeing a bird tonight. Our little Pete's growing up so fast."

The turn in conversation is a bit too forced, though, and silence once again covers them as their thoughts return to Remus and his mission, and to Vivian and Regulus. It is the first time that any of them are feeling the weight of their new lives and the potential repercussions should anything go wrong, but it won't be the last time. They all seem to realize this, too, as they sit in silence and drink their firewhiskey. It seems all too apparent that they have reached the threshold, of sorts, and that there is truly no going back from this point on. If they thought that joining the Order would be all fun and games and that their youth would propel them forward and lend a certain invincibility to their actions, this preconception falls away now.

"Be careful, Moony," James murmurs after a few quiet minutes. Then, to Vivian's surprise, James turns to her and adds, "And make sure you look after yourself too, Pride."

And, though many future moments will continue to color Vivian's perspective of James Potter, she will never forget the sincerity that touches his eyes as he says those words.

"…You too, Potter," she returns, and finds herself smiling when he grins at her, tipping his glass in her direction before downing the last of his firewhiskey.

"Well, I really should be going," James says a moment later, his voice a bit more buoyant this time. "Parties don't crash themselves, you know."

Remus chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I guess I should head home too. Let's go to the pub soon. It'll be good to see you all before I leave."

After saying their goodbyes, Sirius waves them off before returning to the living room and sitting down beside Vivian again. He glances over at her and leans back, arms behind his head. Though he looks just as casual as ever, though, there is a certain heaviness to his eyes. It leaks into his voice when he says, "…Everything seems to be changing all of the sudden."

Vivian pours them another glass of firewhiskey before she murmurs, "I know. Remus will be fine though. He knows what he's doing."

Sirius nods, though he doesn't look as if he necessarily agrees. His brow is creased with worry, which only seems to grow as he studies her. "I'm more worried about you than Remus, to be honest. Dumbledore's right. It was too easy for Regulus to find you."

She leans back and takes a sip of firewhiskey. Then, sighing, she says, "We've just got to trust each other, I guess. Like you said, we're a team, right?"

The reminder makes Sirius's eyes soften. His mouth swings up into a quiet smile. His voice is equally as soft when he swings his arm around her shoulders and responds, "Always."

Vivian shoots him a small smile. They both fall silent, thinking about their day and everything that's happened throughout it, before Vivian sits up and puts her glass down. Sirius watches her stand up with a frown. His words are really more of a complaint when he demands, "What are you doing?"

She rolls her eyes at him and responds, "I wanted to finish writing to Gavin."

The explanation makes Sirius huff. "You pay more attention to Tosspot Clarke than you do me." Yes, his words are definitely a complaint.

Vivian smirks at him and drawls, "I thought you said you weren't jealous."

Sirius sends her a look, then, after a brief moment, he stands up and grabs her hand, dragging her out of the room before she can even make a move to retrieve her half-finished letter.

"Sirius – "

"You can finish writing him tomorrow," is all Sirius says, and though Vivian initially begins to complain, the way he draws her against him to kiss her rather makes her forget why she'd ever want to stop him at all.


	10. Cor unum, via una

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the reviews everyone, it's always lovely to hear from you all :) Hope you're all doing well and please enjoy this update!

**Chapter Ten | Cor unum, via una**

**[One heart, one way]**

Vivian hasn't outright complained about it, but she knows that Sirius is aware of her frustration regarding Dumbledore's brush-off at the last Order meeting. The more time that passes, the more obvious her frustration becomes, especially when Sirius goes off with the other Marauders on another mission. Vivian doesn't blame him, of course, but seeing him depart with such a fiery purpose makes her feel even more useless than ever. It doesn't even matter that, just like the last few missions they'd been on, this one ends up leading them to another dead-end. The fact that he has a mission at all only furthers Vivian's frustration.

She just can't wrap her head around why Dumbledore isn't making use of her talents. Is it really because he's concerned for her safety and wellbeing, or is there a darker purpose to his continuous brush-offs? She's been mulling over Moody's distrusting demeanor for days now. Seeing how close he is to Dumbledore, it would only make sense for him to share this mistrust with the older wizard. This only serves to frustrate her all the more. She doesn't think it's right to be forced to prove her allegiance to them after everything she's already done, especially when no one else in the Order is made to do the same. Just because she's a pureblood Slytherin, she carries a stigma that breeds doubt. She'd have to be blind not to see it.

Sirius, at least, understands.

"Look, I think you should just come with us on the next mission regardless of what Dumbledore says," he suggests as they walk through Hogsmeade.

Their reason for being there is simple: due to Hogsmeade's proximity to Hogwarts, the town has an impressively substantial Owl Post Office for such a small community, and they haven't gotten around to purchasing their own owl yet. Back in school, Vivian would use one of the school owls to send letters to her parents, at least when her family's prideful owl, Leopold, wasn't available to make the return trip. As for Sirius, he didn't exactly have anyone to write to anyway, seeing as he had fallen out with his parents even before the Potter's had taken him in. When he did need to send a letter, he'd use James's owl, but he rarely had a reason to.

"I don't know," Vivian hedges, glancing over at him. "Wouldn't that make Dumbledore trust me even less than he already does?"

Sirius eyes her, lifting his brow. In a dry voice, he reminds her, "When have you ever cared about proving yourself to someone?"

She huffs and doesn't respond, because frankly, she isn't sure how to. The truth is that she _has_ cared about proving herself, to _several_ people. She didn't have pure intentions when she had been trying to prove herself to the Dark Lord last year, but she had still done her best to do exactly that. Her reasons had been selfish because she had been afraid of the consequences should she fail to live up to Voldemort's task, but the end result had been the same. She's been trying to prove herself to the Order, too, though she hasn't quite known how to go about it when she isn't able to do much of anything to further their cause. And then, of course, there's Sirius. It would be a filthy lie if she said that she didn't try to prove herself to him every single day. Sirius makes her want to be a better person. He makes her want to tap into her full potential.

"I don't see why you shouldn't come with us," Sirius adds as they walk down the familiar street that they've both walked down so many times during their school years. It feels surreal being here again, even though it's only been a short time. Perhaps that is exactly the reason why it feels so strange. So much has changed in only a few months. It is already difficult to reconcile her present self with the one that had walked these streets during Hogsmeade weekends. She feels as though she is a completely different person, these days.

Vivian sighs, "Moody would probably have a melt down if he found out that I crashed your mission."

At this, Sirius pauses and then snickers, "All the more reason, if you ask me."

Sirius has not changed very much though, in Vivian's opinion. She casts him a dry look.

"This isn't a prank, Sirius," she reminds him.

He rolls his eyes at her, slipping an arm over her shoulders as he returns, "I'm just saying, Vivi. I mean, we're here in Hogsmeade even though you're not supposed to be out in the open, right? There's no difference, really."

She elbows him, but Sirius only clamps his arm tighter around her and refuses to release her. She grumbles, "The difference is that this isn't _Knockturn Alley."_

Sirius shakes his head at her and laments, "You are so bad at taking risks, you know that?"

She rolls her eyes. "It's called wanting to stay alive, Sirius. Maybe you should try it sometime."

Instead of her words hitting the mark, though, Sirius only laughs, and after a brief moment, Vivian smiles begrudgingly too. She supposes they are being a bit ridiculous, but it's surprisingly easy to fall back into their usual squabbles without even realizing it.

She can't deny that his suggestion does entice her, though. It isn't as if she's been outright banned from tagging along with them, right? Dumbledore doesn't even have to know. She's sure that the other Marauders wouldn't mind. Well, Peter might, but then again he's never quite gotten around to accepting the fact that Sirius and her are together. Not that she cares.

She's still musing over the possibilities therein when her and Sirius arrive at the Post Office several minutes later. They've both been inside during their respective initial explorations of the village, but Vivian's never had a reason to return. To be honest, she isn't all that impressed with the place. Having grown up in the wizarding world, the concept of an Owl Post Office hardly amazes her. It also smells like shite.

Dozens and dozens of owls are perched in the rafters above them. There are so many of them that an ever-present sound of crooning and the ruffling of feathers pervades the large space. Across the way, in the center of the building, there is a round counter with several workers manning it, though one of them is currently walking around the room with a dust bucket and broom, sweeping up fallen feathers and regurgitated owl pellets. Vivian wrinkles her nose at the sight and makes sure to keep her eyes on the floor so as to avoid stepping in anything of a questionable nature.

"How much to send a letter to Norway?" Vivian asks the moment she approaches the counter. Sirius lingers a ways behind her with his hands in his pockets.

The woman behind the counter pulls out her wand and flicks it at the large binder sitting on the surface. A moment later, the pages of it are quickly flipping to a section in the middle of the book, and after one disinterested glance at the contents of the page, the woman intones, "International deliveries to Norway are 4 galleons."

Vivian's eyebrows lift incredulously. "4 galleons to deliver a letter? You've got to be joking – "

"Customs is included in the price," the woman intones again, sounding incredibly bored.

Vivian glowers at her but ultimately doesn't complain. To be fair, she's never cared much about prices before she had abandoned her wealth and she feels a bit annoyed with herself even as she slams the letter onto the counter. She hates being frugal.

"Fine," she mutters. She digs into her coin purse and procures the galleons, though she makes a point of sharpening her glower somewhat as she hands them over. The woman doesn't look like she gives a rat's arse, of course, but it makes Vivian feel a bit better.

"Expected delivery will be next Tuesday," the woman intones, taking the letter and waving her wand over it to do several customary security checks.

Vivian nearly snatches it back when she hears this. "Next _Tuesday - ?"_

Behind her, Sirius coughs. He mumbles something under his breath that sounds distinctly like, _'Don't know why she's bothering with Clarke to begin with,'_ but Vivian ignores him.

The woman sends Vivian a blank stare and intones, "Expedited deliveries are 6 galleons and will arrive next Monday."

Vivian stares right back for several long moments before huffing, "Oh just send the damn letter."

The woman shrugs and turns back to doing her security checks, totally unfazed. Vivian can't claim the same. The moment everything is set, she storms out of the Post Office with a scowl. Sirius has to rush to catch up, and he's snickering by the time he does.

"Oh shut up," Vivian snaps at him. He doesn't.

With a smirk, Sirius drawls, "That's what you get for writing to Tosspot Clarke."

She turns her glare on him, but this doesn't work either. Unfortunately for her, Sirius has always been immune to her glares. When he only smirks wider, Vivian scoff under her breath and marches down the street. She has no particular destination in mind. It's only when she sees Magical Menagerie across the way that she ends up changing course with singular focus. Sirius realizes her intent the moment he sees her angle her body towards the doors, and his snickers turn into grumbles.

"You aren't going to buy an owl just to write Clarke, are you?" he demands, picking up his pace in hopes of catching her before she reaches the shop. "Cause that would be a total waste of money – "

Before he can finish, Vivian twists the doorknob and marches inside, much to Sirius's dismay. He grumbles again and hastens to follow her. When he enters the shop, Vivian is already standing in front of several cages that contain owls of all shapes and sizes, all of which are peering at her in the same way that she is peering at them. That is, with a sort of impatience that speaks of her interrupting their mid-afternoon snack (mice, by the looks of it); and conversely, of her own annoyance at having just spent 4 galleons to send a letter when she should have just bought an owl to begin with.

Sirius sighs and strides over to her, pressing away his amusement at the staring contest currently happening before him. He decides not to remark upon it – or mention that Vivian will never win such a contest against an owl, no matter how impressive her glower is.

"I can't believe you want to buy an owl for _Clarke's_ sake," he grouses when he reaches her side, and crosses his arms with a sort of petulance that would have normally amused Vivian, if she was in the mood to be amused.

As it is, though…

"It's not just to write Clarke," she huffs at him, eyeing a brown-feathered owl with a particularly piercing stare. "We shouldn't have to come all the way to Hogsmeade just to send out a letter."

Sirius can't entirely find fault with this reason, so instead he just gripes, "Well we're not getting that one." He nods to the brown-feathered owl that Vivian is studying.

"Why not?" she asks.

"Because he looks like he'd peck us to death the first chance he gets," he responds.

"He does not. He looks pleasant enough to me."

"He's got a shifty stare."

"He's an _owl,_ Sirius."

"Can I help the both of you?" a salesman interrupts, approaching them with a wary expression. This is probably due to the fact that neither of them is trying to be quiet as they argue back and forth.

Vivian glances over at the man and nods, "Yes, we're going to get that one." She points at the brown owl with a decisive nod.

Sirius looks very much as if he'd like to counteract this, but Vivian just shoots him a look. He rolls his eyes, but ultimately just scoffs, "Fine, but you can pay for him."

Vivian doesn't grace this with a response, seeing as she had been planning on doing exactly that anyhow. The money she had been able to bring with her is slowly running out, but she has enough left to make this purchase with a bit more to spare. Thus far, Sirius has been the one to shell out the coin needed to buy the necessities, but she's spent her own money on things like her wardrobe and such. In any case, she doesn't argue this point and merely steps back to allow the salesman to open the cage and retrieve the owl. The fact that the man doesn't look very eager to handle the bird makes Vivian all the more pleased with her choice – and Sirius, all the more wary.

"We've had him for ages now," the salesman is saying, and slips on a pair of thick gloves as if he's fully expecting the owl to pick a fight. "I'm sure he'll be very…ah, happy that he has a new home."

Sirius eyes the owl carefully, watching as he immediately tries to dash his beak into the salesman's arm, which is not quite as protected as his hands.

"…Wonderful," he grumbles as the salesman lets out a short yelp and then promptly does his best to laugh it off.

Vivian looks rather pleased though. She picks out some owl treats and a decently sized cage to transport the owl and digs into her coin purse once again to pay. The salesman looks incredibly happy to be rid of the owl, and in turn, the owl looks incredibly annoyed to have been once again stuck inside a cage. In fact, he has a menacing look on his face that makes his orange eyes seem utterly demonic, and he keeps shifting from foot to foot as if he'd like nothing more than to peck the bars of his cage to dust. Sirius grimaces.

Honestly, sometimes he wishes that Vivian was the type of woman who liked those tiny owls with the miniscule brains and fluffy wings. At least then he wouldn't be worried about having his eye taken out.

"Thanks very much!" the salesman exclaims after they finish their transaction, handing over the owl as quickly as he can. He makes a point of letting go of the cage the first moment he's able, before the owl can attempt to do him any further harm. Vivian, for her part, just nonchalantly takes the cage and gives the salesman a nod before turning back to the door, evidently finished with her shopping. When the owl tries to peck at Vivian's hand, she just makes a sharp _'tching'_ sound and the creature promptly glares at her but otherwise ceases and desists. Sirius grimaces again and follows, feeling rather helpless.

"You seriously had to choose the owl from hell," he mutters as he closes the shop door behind him.

Vivian looks viciously pleased when she responds, "Typhon is just tired of spending his life in a cage, is all. Once he stretches his wings, he'll be right as rain."

For a moment, Sirius scrambles to recall why the name 'Typhon' sounds so familiar to him. Admittedly, it takes him several seconds longer than it should, but to be fair, he tries not to remember much of his earlier education. His mum had been an absolute menace during his early tutoring sessions and he prefers not to think about those years of his life, spent in the hellhole of his past. As Vivian steps into the street once more, though, a memory finally resurfaces and he feels his eyebrow twitch.

"…Really? You decided to name that thing after a monster?" he dryly asks, and shoves the memory away as quickly as he can. The recollection of long days spent learning Greek mythology and other classical topics whilst under the prowling supervision of Walburga Black makes him cringe just as much as his recollection of the mythological monster.

Vivian snorts. Her only response is a brief, "He isn't a _thing."_

Sirius grumbles, "You _are_ aware that Typhon was a fire-breathing snake-man with wings, right?"

She laughs and sends him a sidelong look, still looking annoyingly pleased. "Exactly. It's the perfect name. Look, he likes it," she adds, glancing down at the newly dubbed 'Typhon' with a smirk. The owl blinks back and gives no indication that he's ever liked anything at all…but he also doesn't attempt to peck at her either, so it's a bit hard to tell.

Sirius shakes his head at them both and drops it. Instead of disputing the name of Vivian's psychopathic owl, he just takes her hand and says, "Come on, let's walk around a bit before going back. I want to go see the shack."

This time, it's her turn to shake her head at him. _"Why?"_ she asks. She can't think of a single good reason to waste time going to see Lupin's old haunt.

Sirius just drags her with him, making sure he's standing as far away from _Typhon_ as possible, and responds, "Why not?" The answer is purposefully rhetorical and he's half expecting Vivian to argue, but she only huffs and lets him pull her down the street.

Indeed, the Shrieking Shack is exactly as it had been some months before, not that this is at all surprising. Sirius gets a sort of nostalgic look on his face when they approach it though, so Vivian holds back a particularly snarky comment on the matter and decides to just let him have at it. He's visited the shack many times during their school years to keep Remus company, and he looks at it now as if it's an important part of his past. She sets Typhon on the ground by the shoddy fence that surrounds the shack and tries not to think about the several times _she_ had visited it, with Death Eaters in tow. No sense ruining a perfectly good day.

"Remember that time we snuck out of the castle to get drinks at The Hog's Head?" Sirius asks, propping his arms on the fence and leaning against it. Around them, the late afternoon sun shines through the foliage and adds an almost pleasant aura to the shack that it otherwise wouldn't have.

Vivian hums. "Yeah, and then you turned into a real mutt, with fleas and everything."

Sirius elbows her playfully. "I told you, I'm a very hygienic dog."

She laughs at this and returns, just as playfully, "A mutt's still a mutt."

He stares at her for all of three seconds before pushing off of the fence and grabbing at her, making her laugh all the more as she pushes him away. Typhon watches them with a royally unimpressed expression and hoots sharply when they nearly knock over his cage.

"Sirius, stop!" Vivian laughs, loosing her balance when her heel catches on a root of a nearby tree. She would have fallen over if Sirius didn't already have a hold of her.

Laughing too, he sets her aright and knocks his forehead gently against hers. A moment later, he swoops in to kiss her, and though he had meant for it to be a brief kiss, the way Vivian curls her arms around his neck to hold him in place rather alters his intentions. Before long, he's melting into her and deepening the kiss, unable to help himself. Especially when she threads her fingers into his hair and clenches down around the strands.

It would be a lie to say that they haven't shared plenty of moments exactly like this one in the past few months, but there's something different about this particular moment that Vivian can't deny. Perhaps it's the fact that they're back in Hogsmeade, where nothing has changed, or maybe it's simply to do with the strangely buoyant freedom in the air as the afternoon sun cuts through the trees and warms their skin. Best of all, they are alone, with no one to witness the impromptu affection.

She pulls him closer and sighs against his lips, closing her eyes as a familiar fire slowly begins to engulf her. She wonders if she'll ever get enough of Sirius Black. His touch, his kiss, his openness. It always goes to her head without fail, and spins a heat like no other within her veins. She feels at once as if she's never been as warm as she is right now – at least until the next time.

He pulls her closer, angling his head to deepen the kiss. His hands shift from her hips to curl around her back, fisting into the back of her shirt. The fabric lifts up just so as a result, and she shivers at the breeze that presses against her skin. It's a warm day at summer's end, and when he feels her shiver, he knows that it isn't because she's cold. If anything, it's the complete opposite, especially when he breaks the kiss to instead press his lips to her cheek, and then her jaw, and then her neck…

Even when Typhon sends them a shrill, angry hoot, neither of them care. Vivian tilts her head to the side and breathes out when she feels his mouth brush against her just so, his kiss almost too gentle to feel and yet so poignant that she feels another shiver pull through her. Her hand slips down to the back of his neck, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin at the base of his skull, and he breathes out, too.

When Typhon sends them another annoyed hoot, though, Vivian hums, "We should probably start heading back, don't you think?"

Sirius doesn't seem to think that at all, though.

"No," he responds, and lifts his head to kiss her on the mouth again, as if he means to stop her from talking.

It works for a short while, until Vivian laughs and pulls away, sending him a rather heated look that only makes him want to kiss her all the more.

"Come on," is all she says, and laughs again when he frowns petulantly. Typhon looks triumphant, at least. When Vivian picks up his cage and turns back to the path, the creature blinks boastfully at Sirius. Sirius shoots the owl a glower that doesn't seem to do much good, because Typhon merely hoots victoriously and narrows his eyes at him. Damned monster.

They start heading back to Hogsmeade, deciding to take their time rather than just apparating from there. They get only part of the way down the path when a thought crosses Sirius's mind, though, and he stops walking. Vivian doesn't notice at first, but when she realizes that he's no longer beside her, she turns to send him a questioning look.

"I just had a thought," Sirius says by way of explanation.

Vivian lifts her eyebrows and dryly says, "Wow. Did you?"

His mouth curls up in amusement at her sarcastic response, but his expression turns serious once again when he asks, "Why not make Hogsmeade our Plan B?"

Vivian doesn't understand, which is clear enough by the way her brows furrow in confusion.

He explains, "Remember? We were talking about coming up with a back-up plan in case Mulciber finds you? If we're separated for whatever reason and we aren't able to contact each other, we ought to have a place to meet."

Vivian tilts her head, recalling the conversation they had shared, the night she had told him that she had run into Regulus and had admitted that she'd seen Mulciber at the Ministry. Despite their good intentions, they hadn't spoken much about forming any such plan since then. She had rather forgotten about it in wake of their last Order meeting and Dumbledore's subsequent brush-off of her news, but now that he's bringing it up, she does agree that it would be a good idea to continue the discussion.

"Okay," she says, putting a hand on her hip and looking around. "So…what are you thinking, then?"

Sirius jerks his head to the side, nodding at the forest. "Come over here and help me look for a good enough tree."

Still a bit unsure of where he's going with this, Vivian raises an eyebrow as he leaves the path and ventures into the forest. These woods are technically a part of the Forbidden Forest, but they aren't nearly as deep or as dark as they become on the other side of Hogsmeade, closer to the castle. Still, she recalls walking through them during that one particularly dark night at the end of their seventh year, and she knows well enough that the trees get taller and larger the deeper they go.

"A good enough tree?" she repeats, trying to prompt him to reveal his plans to her.

"Yeah, I mean, a tree makes for a good meeting place, right?" he calls back to her. "Plus Hogsmeade is ideal since there are no muggles around, so we won't have to worry about the Statute of Secrecy and all that."

Vivian hums and follows him deeper into the forest. Neither of them is concerned about getting lost, as they can simply use magic to find their way back to the path. Typhon, however, doesn't look too pleased with the change of direction, and eyes the towering trees distrustfully before turning his head to glare at his new mistress.

They walk for a short while, perhaps ten minutes or so, before coming across a small boulder that makes for a good landmark. Growing several feet away from the rock is a tall tree with a hulking trunk. It stands somewhat removed from the rest, as a sentinel might stand along the walls of a tower, ever watchful.

"Perfect," Sirius nods, and then withdraws his wand. Vivian watches him step up to the tree and, with careful precision, write their initials on it.

"That's so cliché," she remarks, but feels herself smiling anyway.

Sirius glances back at her with a grin. "We've got to mark it somehow, don't we?"

She puts Typhon's cage down (much to his annoyance) and steps over to him to curl her arm around his waist, watching him finish his work. Then, once he slips his wand back into his pocket, she reaches out to brush her fingertips over the markings and smiles again.

_S.B. & V.B._

"It's perfect," she says, repeating his words from moments before. She turns to look at him, and he grins again.

Of course, she doesn't realize it then – the moment is too pleasant to feel the flash of foreboding that presses into her subconscious, and there's no sense in worrying about the future – but the next time she'll look upon those initials, her world will have begun to burn with a fire that will take twelve years to put out.


	11. Gradatim vincimus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I know this is a really short chapter! I literally just finished writing it up and it's about all I can do for now. I hope I didn't worry any of you when I didn't post yesterday! I've been incredibly busy these last few weeks with work and on top of that, I'm going through a writing drought! D: I'm not too worried about my lack of inspiration since this happens often enough (anyone who writes or does anything creative will understand!). I will probably be posting more sporadically for a while though, so if I don't end up posting new chapters every Sunday, don't worry. I'll try to keep to that timetable but it's possible that updates will be a bit more random. I just wanted to make sure everyone knows what's going on over here on my end that way none of you are concerned if I end up missing a Sunday post. I'm going to try to update a bit sooner this week and finish where this chapter leaves off, so expect an update hopefully before Friday. Until then, hope you're all safe and doing well.

**Chapter Eleven | Gradatim vincimus**

**[We conquer by degrees]**

Vivian has been to Knockturn Alley before, many times. Her father would occasionally bring her along with him on his various trips to several of the storefronts along the main road. His ongoing search for books pertaining to dark magic had meant that a visit to Flourish and Blotts wouldn't have cut it. The sorts of books sold on those shelves hold no comparison to her father's collection. His interest in dark magic and occult tradition requires a more fitting destination. She's been here without her father a few times too, with Morrigan and Narcissus, but they hadn't gone very far before turning back. In all of these instances, the afternoon sun had lit their way, drifting down into the streets and illuminating the street. This time, though, the moon is their only light source, and the thin crescent is too shrouded by the thick clouds to be of much use.

"Are you cold?" Sirius asks in an undertone. He's walking close to her side with his hands shoved into his pockets. She knows that one of them is grasping his wand.

In a murmur, she responds, "No," but it isn't entirely true. The evening is brisker than she had anticipated, and she regrets having chosen this thin summer cloak. With summer slowly collapsing into autumn, the nights have grown steadily colder, ushering in the telltale signs of the change of seasons.

"I didn't think to bring a spare cloak," Sirius mutters as the pair makes their way around a darkened corner. He shifts closer to her as they do. His eyes flicker around the street as if he's expecting that one of the cloaked figures walking towards them will draw their wand on them. Nothing happens, though. The figures hasten past with only a cursory glance at the pair, seemingly intent on whatever business they are conducting at this hour.

Vivian huffs, "I'm fine, Sirius," and falls into silence. This is, admittedly, not what she had been expecting when Sirius had suggested that she come along on their next mission. Now she understands why the Marauders have been so glum about the assignments they've been given, though. So far, they've been into a couple of shops, but the shop owners have been very close-lipped about anything that doesn't directly involve their wares. They haven't discovered anything of import, any connections, any artifacts, or indeed, any other questionable customers. It's already close to midnight now and they're on their way to meet up with James, Lily, and Peter. Remus had left for Romania a few days ago, and he hadn't been sure when he'd be back.

"They should be somewhere around here," Vivian murmurs. Upon deciding to split up, they agreed to return to this street in an hour's time to regroup. Knockturn Alley is much more encompassing than it appears from its vantage point near Diagon Alley. Its many streets cut deep into a network of narrow corridors and alleyways. The main street is home to many shops, but there are many others the further in you go. It's easy to get lost here.

The thought obviously concerns Sirius, who reaches out to take Vivian's arm and pull her to a stop. Together, they pause nearby a flickering lamppost and sink into the shadows just beyond it.

"Hold on a minute," Sirius mutters, digging around in the pocket of his cloak. After some moments, he pulls out a thin, square mirror. It's dull reflection slices through the darkness just so.

Vivian tilts her head at it. It looks oddly familiar. She's sure she's seen it before.

" _James,"_ Sirius hisses into it, much to her confusion.

"What are you doing?" she demands in a whisper, feeling half amused but mostly baffled. She always knew Sirius was insane, but honestly, this takes it to a new level.

Sirius glances over at her and murmurs, "What does it look like I'm doing?" Then, without further explanation, he turns back to the mirror and hisses again, "James, answer me you prat."

Vivian lifts her eyebrows. As she stares at him, a memory comes to the surface of her mind. Actually, several memories. She has seen that mirror before, now that she's thinking about it. She's seen both Sirius and James holding it from time to time during classes back at Hogwarts, and she recalls seeing Sirius with it after he had used her own spell against her in the beginning of seventh year and had made her spew out all sorts of disgusting compliments to everyone she spoke to…

Just as Sirius is opening his mouth to say something else, a whispered voice sounds, _"Don't call me a prat, you tosser,"_ from the mirror, and Vivian's eyebrows lift a little higher.

She leans in, grasping Sirius's arm to keep her balance as she looks into the mirror. To her surprise, James's face appears on the other side, darkened in shadows and just barely visible.

"Where are you?" Sirius asks. "I thought we agreed to meet up after an hour."

James's expression furrows. "We're down by that creepy divination shop – the one that sells these crystal balls that start screaming at you whenever you look at them? You've got to get over here, Padfoot. Pete saw Lucius Malfoy just now. I made him transform into a rat and go inside to see what they're up to, but Lily and I can't go in ourselves – look, just come here as soon as you can, I'll explain once you're here."

With that, James's face disappears. It seems that he's shoved the mirror back into his pocket, because a moment later, all they see is several folds of dark fabric before everything turns black. Then, a moment after that, whatever magic had forged the connection between the mirrors fades away, and Vivian and Sirius's faces are all that they see reflecting back at them.

"…The divination shop? I think that's a few streets down from here," Vivian says as Sirius slips the mirror back into his own pocket. She catches him eye with a solemn expression and murmurs, "Have you seen Malfoy around here on any of your other missions?"

Sirius frowns, "Well, yeah, actually. We've seen a few of them, but they've never gone into any shop in particular and they've always noticed us eventually." He sighs and nods towards the street, "Let's go."

Vivian falls into step beside him as they head back down the street that they had only just walked down minutes before, retracing their steps back into the depth of the alley. One would think that, at this hour, it would be bereft of life, but not so here in Knockturn Alley. She sticks close to Sirius when they pass a particularly old hag who keeps muttering to herself, and she doesn't look at anyone directly.

"So…that mirror," Vivian says as they approach the end of the street. She smirks and sends Sirius a side-long glance. "I always thought you were just obsessed with yourself, carrying that thing around everywhere you went."

Sirius snorts out a laugh and sends her a smirk, too. "Well, I _am_ ridiculously handsome, but I don't need a mirror to tell me that."

She rolls her eyes at him with an amused smile, but that's where their conversation falls away. This isn't exactly the ideal place to have lighthearted dialogue, after all, especially when they finally catch sight of James and Lily a few streets down.

"There you are," James says, sounding relieved. "Wormtail's still inside. I'm starting to get a bit worried."

Sirius and Vivian come to a stop beside them and look towards the shop that James gestures at. Most of the shops are closed at this hour, but several lights stream out of this one. Vivian doesn't recognize it. Even with her father, she's never been this deep into Knockturn Alley before.

"How long has he been in there?" Sirius asks, eyeing the windows. Beyond the display of divination tools – dusty crystal balls, ancient looking tarot decks, and the like – they can just about see the telltale sign of Lucius Malfoy's white-blonde hair standing by a towering shelf. He appears to be talking to the shop owner, a grumpy looking man who seems somewhat wary of Lucius by the way he's partially bent over as if in a perpetual bow.

Lily twists her mouth thoughtfully and guesses, "Fifteen minutes, maybe? It took James a couple of minutes to convince Peter to transform too, so Malfoy's been there for a bit longer. He's been talking to that man since he went inside."

"That's strange," Vivian mutters. She studies Lucius closely, and can't help but recall seeing his father at the Ministry all those weeks ago. What Lucius is doing here, at this hour, she has no idea, but it surely isn't anything good.

"We'll wait a few more minutes," Sirius decides, and leans back against the wall with his arms crossed, looking far more casual than he has any right to.

A few minutes pass them by, but Lucius doesn't leave. He lingers in the shop for at least ten minutes more before he turns to face the window. His expression is thunderous, his eyes narrowed. The shop owner, grumpy as he seems, looks rather shaken as he follows Lucius to the door. The three of them huddle back into the shadows of the narrow alcove James and Lily had been standing in to avoid being seen.

When the door swings open, it's clear that Lucius is indeed annoyed. From across the way, they hear him drawl something particularly rude to the shop owner, who frowns but doesn't reply or attempt to defend himself. He seems to know who he's dealing with and smartly remains silent. Lucius merely scoffs and sweeps out of the shop, pulling his cloak about his form as he goes. He doesn't turn his head or notice that he has company, nor does he see the rather fat rat that scurries out of the shop just before the shop owner pulls the door shut, grumbling as he goes.

"Thank Merlin," James whispers as the rat dashes across the shadowy street to where they're standing. A moment later, the small creature begins to transform into the familiar form of Peter Pettigrew, who immediately begins to mop at his brow as he collapses against the stone wall with a heaving sigh.

When he doesn't say anything, Sirius demands, "Well? What happened?"

Peter startles a bit, perhaps having not realized that Sirius and Vivian had joined up with them. His nose twitches in the way it often does just after he transforms – a habit that the Marauders are all accustomed to by now, but still unsettles Vivian whenever she happens to see it. In a shallow voice, as if all the air has become compressed within his lungs, Peter explains, "He's looking – looking for an artifact that will – raise the _dead."_ Then, with a shudder, Peter gives out a tremble and says nothing more.

James and Sirius glance at each other, then over at Vivian. It is plain to see that their thoughts are on the same exact wavelength that Vivian's are. They're obviously remembering Vivian's explanation of her impromptu run-in with Regulus, and the message he had for her.

"…It sounds like they're trying to work out some sort of alternative plan," Sirius mutters.

James appears to agree. "Whatever wards you've put around your new place seems to be working, otherwise they probably would've found you by now, Vivian."

She purses her mouth and hums, crossing her arms over her chest with a grimace. As for Peter, he finally seems to have caught his breath. The adrenaline that had stolen it now fades enough for him to say more clearly, "I think you're right, Prongs. I heard Malfoy say something about how his acquaintance's plans weren't working…I think he must've been talking about Mulciber."

This information doesn't sit well with Sirius, who glances over at Vivian with a hooded expression. She can see the concern in his eyes clear as day, but she's not sure how to assuage his worries. She doesn't know what to say to make him feel better about their current circumstances, but she does know one thing. It's a thought that slowly unfurls within her mind, gaining gravity the more it festers. It's a plan that could backfire with terrible consequences…but it could also give the Order a leg up, which is something they desperately need right about now…

"I have an idea, but you're probably not going to like it," Vivian says, knowing full well that the concern in Sirius's eyes is only going to get worse once he hears the extent of said idea.

Still, sacrifices must be made for the greater good, sometimes, and Vivian Blair just so happens to be in the ideal position for this particular sacrifice.


	12. Iacta alea est

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY GUYS I seriously did not intend on disappearing like that and worrying you/making you all think that I abandoned this story. I DIDN'T D:
> 
> I've been so busy that I've hardly had time to sit back and take some time for myself, let alone write. I've been slowly but steadily working towards being self-employed for several years now and this year I've had a more successful run of it than in years past. I've been swamped since September, first prepping nonstop for the Christmas season and then working nonstop through it. It doesn't help that I have an actual job as well to add to the stress. I'm sorry for randomly disappearing without warning. In my last update, I said that I may not update every Sunday for a while, but I didn't mean to not update at all. Life got a bit ahead of me and I had to prioritize, but I have absolutely no intention of dropping this story. I apologize for making some of you think that was the case.
> 
> I wanted to have something to post on Christmas for you all. This chapter isn't too long but at least it's something. Now that the busy season is over, I'll have more time to focus on my writing. I need a bit of time to recalibrate myself and get back into the swing of things, so please bear with me for a while longer. Rest assured that more chapters will be posted soon, perhaps not every Sunday at the moment, but as often as I'm able until I can get back into my usual schedule. Thank you all for being so understanding. I've finally gotten around to reading reviews and you are all so wonderful despite my disappearing act. I so appreciate the feedback and support. You're all dimes I swear ;D 
> 
> Anyway, now that that's out of the way! I hope you've all had a very Merry Christmas wherever you are in the world, and that this final week of 2020 will treat you well before we can officially forget it ever happened and move on with our lives! I'll try to get another update in before the end of it but we'll see what happens. Regardless, as I said before, more chapters will be out as soon as I'm able to sit down and write them. Thanks again and God bless XOXO

**Chapter Twelve | Iacta alea est**

**[The die is cast]**

Vivian hadn't thought she'd willingly return here. After all, when last she was here, she had decided, subconsciously if nothing else, that she no longer belonged among the rooms of this manor. This realization had taken some time to fester into the hardened understanding that she now possesses. Back then, it had been little more than an inkling, a whisper in the dark parts of her mind; the parts that she had done her best to ignore and push aside, because they did not align with the image of her life that she had spent so many years cultivating. She had rebelled against that whisper at first. She hadn't wanted to fall into Fate's rocky path, hadn't wanted to let it get the better of her. It strikes her as strange, in a subtly ironic way, that despite all of this, nothing appears to have changed in any way since the last time she had stood upon this white marbled floor.

"The mistress is taking lunch in the eastern dining room," Wispy's familiar voice squeaks. The little elf looks understandably wary as she peers up at Vivian. Her long, knobby fingers twist tightly into the ragged shirt she's wearing. It's tucked into a slip of fabric that could be described as a skirt, though after a cursory glance at the scrolled hem of it, Vivian knows better. The silvery pattern that darts through the hem is a touch too familiar for her to not instantly place. The fabric belonged to the curtains that had, until very recently it seems, hung in the windows of her old bedroom.

Vivian's eyes darken. It seems to make for a frightful sight, because Wispy promptly stops fisting her hands into her clothes and shuffles back with an uneven, "Wispy will tell Mistress Blair that the young missus has returned!" Then, with hardly a backward glance, the house-elf turns on her heel and scurries away, darting out of the foyer as quickly as she had arrived. Vivian stares at the silver scrolled fabric until it disappears around the corner. Truth be told, she feels just as wary, but isn't about to let it show upon the planes of her face.

Even though it's only been a handful of months since she had graduated Hogwarts and had said goodbye to this place and the life therein, she feels as though it has been much longer. This foyer of her childhood, this bastion that had silently watched her grow into the woman she is today with all her hard edges and stubborn pride, seems foreign to her. The columns and angles of the room are familiar enough, but something about them seems to have irrevocably changed. Perhaps it is not the pillars themselves, but simply her. She is too different to still call this place home. The Vivian Blair that had once traversed these halls has been swept away and dismantled, piece by piece, transfigured into a new form; still of marble, perhaps, but divergently shaped.

Sometimes, you do not feel change as it performs its alterations, but Vivian has felt this particular change all too poignantly over the last few months. It hasn't been a change that she had rebelled against quite as profoundly as she had in the past. Rather, despite the accompanying undercurrent of fear that comes with all things unknown, she had accepted it with far more grace than she ever could have imagined. Her obstinate heart had yet clung to the remnants of her old self – those core elements that had directed her in the times before – but little else had been salvaged. She is different, now, and all the happier for it, but she must not show these changes upon her face today. She must cling longer still to the memory of those remnants, if she ever wants her plan to progress.

As she lingers in the foyer, turning to watch the setting sun dash its rays through the glimmering stained glass far above, she wonders if the other occupants of this house will see through such attempts.

" _Are you crazy?"_ Sirius had demanded when she had told the Marauders of her plan, half-formed but promising.

James had shaken his head at her and murmured, _"The chances of you being found out is too high. I'm all for taking a risk, Pride, but we're talking about Death Eaters here. You really think they'd fall for this after you walked away from them like you did?"_

Sirius had nodded in agreement and added, _"They disowned you, Vivian. This insane idea of yours is gonna get you killed."_

But Vivian still has the last letter her mother had sent her, months ago before she had graduated. The one that says that, if she ever decided that she'd made the wrong choice in following Sirius, her mother would do what she could to convince her father to take her back. She clutches it in her pocket now, weeks after she'd had that conversation with the Marauders on the night that they had followed Lucius Malfoy through Knockturn Alley, and takes a deep breath as she hears footsteps hurrying down the hall towards the foyer.

"…Vivian?" comes her mother's voice. It's quiet, shaky almost, as if she can hardly believe that her daughter is standing there at all, in this place that she had given up. Vivian takes another breath before composing her expression and turning. Her wariness returns at full force the moment her eyes lock onto her mother's.

She isn't the only person who is wary, evidently. Isobel Blair, though clearly happy to see her, looks as if she is teetering between joy and skepticism. Her eyes are watery, but her face is hard. She looks altogether unsure of what to think, which is made all the clearer when she lifts her chin and cautiously asks, "What are you doing here, Vivian?"

Vivian resists the urge to fidget with the hem of her cloak, and coolly responds, "I…wished to speak with you. Is father home?"

Her mother's eyes flash. From Vivian's vantage point, she can't tell if the emotion behind them is bred from anger or fear. It could be either, or something else entirely – as before, she suddenly feels like a stranger as she stands there, dismantled yet again.

"He'll be home shortly. He had a meeting at Gringotts earlier today," is the equally cool response. Like mother, like daughter. The misty eyes that had initially alighted upon Vivian are duller now, tempered back into careful indifference. After another short, stilted silence, she adds, "I told you in the hospital wing all those months ago, Vivian. I can't help you. If your father sees you here – "

"I'm not here for your help," Vivian interrupts, trying to sound as calm as she outwardly appears. Or, at least, she hopes she appears that way. She's doing all she can to become like those marble pillars, strong and cold. "I'm here to help _you,_ actually."

At this, Isobel Blair pauses to study her daughter's face, lifting her eyebrows. Vivian holds onto her cold expression as the moments pass, willing herself not to give anything away. Her mother can be startingly perceptive at times, and she dares not falter now, not when she has come so far already.

"…Wispy, perhaps some tea," her mother slowly says after a lengthy moment. She half-turns, angling her body towards the hallway that leads further into the house. The way she lifts her hand in a silent gesture feels oddly final, as does the press of Vivian's heart against her ribcage when she accepts the invitation. She can't help but feel as though she is making a mistake by stepping out of the foyer, as if by doing so, she is moving beyond safety's reach.

" _No, Vivian,"_ Sirius had told her after James and Peter had left. He had gripped her shoulders firmly and said, _"The Department of Law? That's bad enough, but going to see your father? It's a terrible idea."_

She wonders if he had been right after all. Stubbornness, though – it runs through her blood. She needs to try. It could change everything for the Order. She could be useful. She could make her mark upon the world and put Adrian Mulciber into his place once and for all.

By the time they step into the sitting room about halfway down the hallway, Wispy is already setting up the tea. The small, scrawny house-elf bustles about with a harried air, looking as though she'd like to leave as quickly as possible. She sends continuous glances at Vivian and keeps twisting her new skirt in her hands every other second, so jumpy that she almost drops the plate of scones as she deposits it from tray to table.

Vivian doesn't show it, but she feels a bit jumpy herself. She isn't sure how she manages to sink down into the familiar settee so elegantly. Her legs feel like jelly, and she very nearly grimaces when Wispy abruptly disapparates from the room with a loud 'pop'.

"Your father should be home soon," her mother says, hardly casting her a glance as she reaches forward to pour them both a cup. It's only when she's setting the teapot back onto the table that she looks directly at Vivian. For a split second, Vivian swears she sees that watery glow punctuate her mother's eyes, but it disappears too quickly to grasp, leaving Vivian feeling as though she is reeling, too uncertain to see it clearly.

She remembers all too well the way her mother had grasped her hand when she had laid in that hospital bed at Hogwarts. There had been a desperation to Isobel Blair, then, that appears to have dulled in the months since. Yet some tide of it still clings to her, waxing and waning in the moments between Vivian's notice. She can't decide if there is enough of it to be a good sign, or not enough so as to breed more uncertainty and wariness.

Deciding, perhaps against her better judgement, to test the waters, Vivian slowly says, "I heard he was looking for me."

Is she referring to her father now, or to Him? The Dark Lord has also been searching her out, after all, and her mother seems to be quite aware of this as well. She stares at Vivian for another long moment before murmuring, "Where did you hear that?"

Another test, it seems.

Vivian grips the handle of her teacup. "…Regulus Black."

Her mother doesn't outwardly react, at least at first. She blinks at Vivian, pausing to mull over this information. Then, with a poise that speaks volumes to those who know how to interpret it, Isobel Blair slowly places her own teacup down onto the table and elegantly lays her hands in her lap, one over the other.

"And did Regulus Black tell you why he was looking for you?" her mother wonders, her voice a little too light to be taken at face value.

Vivian is quite sure, now, that they are not speaking of her father. She gives a brief nod, and her mother seems to hold her breath.

"…I find it rather odd that you would meet with Regulus," her mother begins, but doesn't get to finish.

"As do I. Last I heard, Regulus isn't in the habit of speaking with traitors," her father's clipped voice suddenly sounds, and the both of them turn with a start to see that he is standing in the doorway, fists clenched and eyes sparking with quiet fury.

Vivian sits a little straighter, pressing her shoulders back as if she is trying to perfect her already flawless posture. In a collected voice, she greets, "Father."

Lukas Blair's lip curls up at the word. He looks like he wants to scoff at her for the familiar greeting. Years of noble breeding is all that holds him back – a sort of failsafe, Vivian knows, that acts as his guiding force whenever he finds himself in a situation that he is not fully prepared for. This is certainly such a situation. He had not expected to receive a visit from his wayward, disowned daughter today or on any day, for that matter.

"Did you come back to ask for money?" he pointedly wonders, looking down at her. He does not move from his place in the doorway. He looks as if he is still deciding whether or not he should entertain her at all. With an arrogant expression that looks to be seconds away from turning into a downright sneer, he drawls, "I suppose you regret running off with that blood traitor now that you've had a taste of it."

Though Vivian is tempted to bite out a cutting response to this, she holds herself back and merely arranges her expression into an arrogance of its own. If anything is true, then it is the complete opposite – that she very much regrets coming back _here,_ if only because she must subject herself to hearing such things. She holds that back, too, though. An admittance like that would only make her plan fail all the faster.

So instead of retorting, Vivian merely drawls back, "I _do_ regret it, but not for the reasons you think. I had to convince them, you see. It had to look believable."

This seems to pique her father's curiosity, if nothing else. His sneer becomes a little more pronounced even as his eyes flash with interest. Vivian sees it, of course. She knows her father's weaknesses well enough, and she knows how to manipulate them. Yes, he is prideful, and arrogant, and far too concerned about his standing in pureblood society. Far too concerned now, especially, about the scandal of his own daughter's disownment. There is one other trait that Lukas Blair possesses, though, that is not fully tainted by pride and arrogance, and that is his love of knowledge. One needs not look past his vast collection of books and scrolls for proof of that, and while his particular appreciation is for darker things of a more questionable nature, curiosity yet drives him to learn more, to uncover all the secrets therein. It lends itself to his expression now, as well, as he attempts to piece together his daughter's cryptic words.

"…Believable?" he repeats, and she knows she has him.

Vivian puts her teacup down and in a disparaging tone, says, "Sirius Black thinks I'm in love with him."

Her father stares at her. So does her mother. Vivian doesn't look at her, though. She's afraid that if she does, the act she is currently performing will fall away, doomed before it can truly take root. Her mother is more perceptive, after all, and had been there that day to witness the heartfelt confession that Vivian had uttered, when she had told her that she loved Sirius.

The edge of her father's mouth curves into the barest hint of a smile, but it's smothered somewhat with uncertainty. He doesn't sound entirely convinced when he says, "You're playing him." Actually, there's something in his voice that seems cautious as he utters the words, as if he's merely testing them out to see if they ring with truth. Lukas Blair is a Slytherin, and Slytherins are quite good at discerning truth from lies. Thankfully, they are also good at crafting said lies.

Vivian stands up, brushing the wrinkles from her cloak in a rather utilitarian fashion, and sets her shoulders back. She catches her father's eye when she explains, "Regulus and I have been planning this for months. He knows his brother's weaknesses and knows how to exploit them. We're doing this for the cause, father."

She sees her mother frown from the corner of her eye, but Vivian keeps her eyes trained to her father, who is peering at her with more curiosity than had graced his expression moments before. He appears to be mulling over her words when he murmurs, "If you've been planning this for so long, why did you not inform me of it?"

He studies her closely, as a snake might study its prey – poised to dart forward, each muscle at the ready, tense and prepared but with an air of careful relaxation. The better to hide your intentions.

Vivian's mouth curls into a cold smile. It is a resurrected thing, reborn for this moment and this alone, scraped by and hastily recalled. Lately, her smiles have been a touch warmer. It takes an extra amount of mental finesse to set her mouth into this expression.

"Like I said, it had to look believable. We weren't just trying to fool Sirius Black, after all," she responds, lifting an eyebrow as she locks eyes with her father. The words that are left unsaid make her father raise his own eyebrows. He hears them well enough, through the silence that perforates the room.

"And Dumbledore believes that you're on his side?" he asks, sounding disbelieving again. "The man is a fool, I grant you, but he has a surprising ability to see through things."

Vivian snorts in a rather disparaging way and shrugs, "He's definitely a fool, father. If you need further proof of my allegiance, here." She dips her hand into the pocket of her cloak and pulls out a scrap of parchment. Her father reaches out to take it, looking thoroughly derogative with its blank, empty surface – until Vivian says, "It's how they communicate with each other. When they're planning on meeting up, this tells them where and when."

Her father's eyebrows lift ever higher. This time, he looks vaguely impressed.

"…That's it, then? You joined up with Sirius in order to get to Dumbledore?" he demands, looking back at her with those careful eyes again, tense but prepared. "You mean to tell me that you made a fuss over marrying Adrian because you wanted to try your hand at playing the spy for the Dark Lord? He's furious with you, Vivian. You _do_ understand that, I'm sure."

Vivian raises her chin higher and drawls, "Once he realizes that I'm telling you the truth, he won't be. I'm doing all of this for him, after all."

Her father stares at her for another long moment, looking as though he is trying to decide what to believe. Then, tucking the scrap of parchment into his pocket, he drawls, "Well I suppose we'll have to wait to see if Dumbledore means to set a time and date to meet with his band of miscreants any time soon. Until then, I'm afraid I can't trust you, not even if Regulus comes forward to back up your claims."

Vivian doesn't appear to be surprised by this, and just shrugs, "I understand. You'll trust me eventually, when everything I've said proves correct. I want the Dark Lord to rise just as much as you do, father. I only want to do my part. Marrying Adrian wouldn't have gotten me anywhere and you know it. I want to fight. To be useful to the cause."

This, at least, is not a lie. She does want to be useful to the cause. Just not the Dark Lord's cause. Her father's eyes flicker with more of that curiosity, as if he is tempted to believe her…but when Vivian finally glances over at her mother, she sees another sight entirely.

Understanding. Perception. Knowing.

Vivian swallows as she locks eyes with her, but Isobel Blair says not a word. She merely sits on the sofa with her hands laid demurely in her lap and stares at her daughter as if she is able to see right through her. Her eyes uncover every mystery that Vivian Blair yet possesses. She knows what has brought her here. She knows that Vivian is not using Sirius Black for her own ends. She knows, too, that her daughter does not wish for the Dark Lord to rise. A mother always sees.

"I'll be speaking with Regulus about this," her father says. His voice contains the barest hint of a warning. Vivian brushes it off.

"So will I," she admits. "I'll have to tell him that he doesn't have to pretend to hate me anymore. At least not around you."

Right. Well, what she'll actually have to tell him is that she dragged him into her story without his permission, and that unless he wants her to end up dead by the Dark Lord's hands, he's going to have to pretend as if he's a part of her wayward plan when he's inevitably asked about it. She wonders how furious he'll be with her for this.

That is a thought for another day, though. For now…

"Wispy will show you out," her father says, and then promptly snaps his finger to summon the house-elf. The responding 'pop' as the elf appears is ignored as he locks eyes with his daughter and drawls, "I'm sure we'll see you soon, Vivian. Do be careful around that blood traitor in the meantime."

Vivian doesn't respond. She merely sends her father a careful look and follows Wispy back to the foyer. She can feel her father's eyes on her all the way there. Every step she takes is a challenge in itself, for she wants to run to the doors and leave this place – she wants to return to her real home. Her cottage near the sea, where Sirius is waiting, no doubt driven restless with worry.

She takes one last glance at the foyer though, before she leaves. She had written this place off with all the permanence of a person intent on closing doors no longer useful to them, and yet here she is again, reopening it. Family is, perhaps, one of the things that a Slytherin considers most important of all. They form connections and bestow opportunity. They are circles of likeminded people with which creates networks to be used to vault yourself to new heights. Vivian Blair, however, sees another purpose here; another reason to reopen this particular door, no matter how difficult it is to revisit the past she had thought she'd closed permanently.

She can use her family for more than connections and opportunities. She can use them to learn more about the Dark Lord's plan. This door will lead her on, but it won't be for the purpose that her father believes – or will believe, once her words are properly backed up with proof. No, her purposes are not so transparent as all that, but she won't tell her father such things.

Vivian Blair is, after all, a Slytherin, and she holds her cards close to her chest.


End file.
